


Recovery

by kinsale_42



Series: Daiedan [2]
Category: World of Warcraft
Genre: Ashbringer - Freeform, Dom/sub Play, Enthusiastic Consent, Explicit Sexual Content, Fishing, Influenza, Legion - Freeform, Lore - Freeform, M/M, Quest, Romance, Self-Discovery, Undercover Missions
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-21
Updated: 2017-10-21
Packaged: 2019-01-20 21:38:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 27,302
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12442332
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kinsale_42/pseuds/kinsale_42
Summary: Khadgar is seeking information, as usual. This time he's chosen Archmage Daiedan, an experienced fisherman, and Arator, a young half-elf paladin and the son of Khadgar's long-missing best friends, to go undercover among the Anglers of Pandaria to find it. The pair have to learn to rely on each other to play the roles they've been given, and find their way into the hearts of Nat Pagle and his associates. Meanwhile, Dai still isn't sure if he can trust his memory, and longs for the reassurance of Kalec's presence.





	Recovery

  
  


I knew something was wrong as soon as I awoke. The acoustics of the room were wrong, for one thing, and the smell, and the amount of light that came through my eyelids. And then I identified the unfamiliar nature of the surface on which I lay, and the blanket which covered me. I was clearly not in my own bed, in my own rooms. Carefully, I opened my eyes.

The room was quite dim. The only light came from a few flickering sconces that hovered, magically suspended, near the walls. The walls were lined with shelves, most of which were filled with books from floor to ceiling. A library. And I had been sleeping on a well-cushioned couch, with a soft woven blanket tucked around me. I freed myself from the blanket and sat up, recognizing the room at last.

This was Khadgar's study. I had only a moment to try and work out how I had arrived here, with no success, before the door opened and Khadgar himself peeked in.

"Ah! You're awake. Excellent." He entered the room and closed the door softly behind him. The wall sconces brightened at his presence. "I must apologize for not returning you to your own bed, but you were so exhausted I thought it would be easier to let you sleep here. Besides, you wouldn't have to return to discuss your next mission if you were here already!"

Khadgar sat in the chair next to my couch as he spoke. I saw the fingers of one hand wiggle and his eyebrow twitched, and a tray with a coffee pot and two cups appeared on the table between us.

I accepted the cup he offered me. Before I took a sip, I had to ask, "How did I get here? I...I'm afraid I can't remember coming here at all." Surely my mind wasn't playing its tricks again? Hadn't my memory holes been entirely a result of Malygos? I was unaware of any recent gaps, not since the new phase of my relationship with Kalec had begun. I felt so much more alive and in touch with myself now that I couldn't imagine losing pieces again. I didn't want to forget a thing.

"Oh!" he answered. "Well. I sent you a summons last night, and I'm afraid I hadn't noticed how late it was. You must have been just falling asleep when it arrived, because you teleported directly here in that state between consciousness and unconsciousness. I did feel rather guilty about it and made sure you were comfortable. I must say, I thank you for your prompt response, but it's really not necessary if you're already in bed." I wasn't sure if he winked at me or if that was just another eyebrow twitch.

I took a sip of the coffee at last. Unsurprisingly, it was excellent. There were always whispers around Dalaran that Khadgar was a blundering dunderhead but I suspected it was just an affectation to soften the sharpness of his wit and skill. He certainly had excellent taste in food and drink, and in associates. I supposed that the story he was telling me was fairly close to the truth of what had happened. Without witnesses, how would I know? I couldn't remember.

"You spoke of a mission?" I asked, grasping for something to distract me from myself.

Khadgar looked at me searchingly before answering. "Yes, I have some research that needs to be done discreetly, and I think you'd do well." He set his coffee cup down on the tray, already empty, and moved briskly over to his work table, where he pushed aside a pile of scrolls to retrieve a slim volume. He thumbed through it as he returned to his chair, finding the page he sought just as he sat down again.

"Ah! Here it is. Yes..." He looked up at me as he began to explain. "This book speaks of the history of the Ashbringer, the greatsword once carried by Tirion Fordring and now wielded by the current Highlord of the Silver Hand. It hints at a way to add greater power to the weapon, and with the war against the Legion intensifying, we need to gather every possible strength to sustain our forces and turn the tide in our favor." He paused. I sensed he was steeling himself against the possibility of a bad outcome.

"I see," I said, in the brief silence. "You want me to help research that empowerment technique?"

Khadgar closed the book in his hand. "Yes. It would seem that the famous master fisherman, Nat Pagle, may have some information on the subject. It seems unusual, I know, but the clues we have point us in that direction. I want you to go to the village where he spends most of his time, in the Krasarang Wilds of Pandaria, and build a rapport with him, with the end goal of browsing his library at your leisure. I have heard you are a fairly accomplished fisherman yourself, is that right?"

I was being sent on a fishing expedition, on multiple levels, in the midst of a war? I tried to keep my expression neutral. "Yes, I do quite a bit of fishing, although I don't know if I would call myself accomplished. I suppose this would give me a chance to learn from the master, though."

"Quite," Khadgar agreed. "I will be sending a young paladin with you. He may be of some assistance in detecting what information is most useful, and it's always good to have a trustworthy companion. And he should be arriving soon." Just as he said the words, there was a quiet tap on the study door before it opened and the aforementioned paladin entered.

"You sent for me, Khadgar?" he said, with a faintly elvish inflection. He glanced briefly at me, but made no indication that my extremely casual and rumpled appearance even registered.

"Arator! Join us. I was just outlining a little job I have for you and Archmage Daiedan. I hope you don't mind the smell of fish?"

Arator looked perplexed as he sat on one end of the couch. "No, it doesn't bother me. Why?"

We both listened as Khadgar went over the details of the trip again. At least, he went over all the details he cared to share with us. I still had that feeling that there was more involved than he was letting on, and though that was normal with the Kirin Tor, I didn't think it was entirely Khadgar's style. I wondered if he was protecting me or Arator, or someone not present.

At the end of his explanation, he drew a breath, as though he knew what he was going to say next might be difficult for us to hear. "I need you both to be extremely discreet," he said. "That means false names, vague and fictitious backgrounds, and you must leave behind identifiable possessions. That means..." Here he looked at me with concern. "That means Aluneth must remain in Dalaran. And Arator, your armor and weapon as well. I am sorry. But there are Legion spies everywhere. No one must know where you're going or what you seek." He sighed, the extra air he had inhaled escaping at last. "I will see to it personally that your valuables are secured, and if your absence is remarked upon, I will provide reasons."

Aluneth would not be pleased to be shut away, but I doubted he would miss me personally. I assumed Kalec would miss me, but as he was a member of the Kirin Tor council, I assumed he would be privy to this undertaking and had given it his blessing. I looked at the paladin next to me. He seemed unbothered. He was nodding to show he understood. He had the fearlessness of the young about him.

Khadgar nodded too, when he saw we were both amenable. "Good. Forgive me, but I have sent arcane servants to gather the supplies and gear you will need so that you can leave directly from this room. If you need food or drink before you go, I can provide it, and there is a washroom over here..." his voice trailed off as he got up and crossed the room to activate a catch on the edge of one of the bookcases. The unit swung open, revealing private facilities. I couldn't help but smile slightly. Of course there would be something like that built in. This was Dalaran, the city of many secrets.

The arcane servants began to appear in the center of the chamber, half a dozen lavender-colored swirls of energy fortified enough to be able to carry physical objects. One of them carried my traveling pack, stuffed full of what I guessed to be clothing and personal effects. Another carried what I assumed to be Arator's personal bag. Two more were laden with basic weaponry, just enough for self-defense. There was a simple wooden staff and a dagger for me, and a non-descript shortsword and shield for my companion. The last two held fishing gear, nice enough but not showy, and not obviously new.

While I was watching the arcane servants appear and deposit their burdens before vanishing once more into the ether, Khadgar had picked up two parcels tied with string that had been sitting on the corner of his work table and brought them over to where we still sat on the couch.

"Traveling clothes," he said, handing one parcel to Arator and one to me. "Obviously I can't teleport you straight there, or it would garner quite a bit of attention from those who make it their business to watch such comings and goings. What I can do, however, is take you as far as Stormwind, where you can then travel by sea to Pandaria. I have been told there is also a hot air balloon service, can you believe that? Whatever seems most appropriate to you."

I looked down at the parcel in my hands. Tucked between the string and the garments was a folded piece of paper.

He must have seen me looking at it, because Khadgar then began to speak of it. "I have written out a brief fictional background for each of you that should provide the framework for you to explain yourselves in most situations. Yes, that's it there." He gave us a few minutes to read them over. "Memorize them as best you can. The paper will dissolve in a couple of hours and leave no trace."

"How long will we be gone?" Arator asked.

"Good question," Khadgar replied. "I assume it could take a number of weeks to gain the favor you need amongst the Anglers' guild and with Nat himself for him to be willing to share his personal library. Anywhere from three or four to eight or nine. If the situation here in the Broken Isles changes dramatically and you are needed, you will be contacted." He smiled, though, even in the face of such dire possibilities, and his blue eyes twinkled. "Until then, enjoy your trip. Catch exciting fish, sample exotic cuisine, relish your leisure. Light knows when we'll get another chance for it."

***

It had been a rough passage between Booty Bay and the southern tip of the Jade Forest in Pandaria. Arator spent much of his time below deck. I assumed he was trying not to be seasick, though he claimed he was really more concerned about not being washed overboard. Miraculously, I had not felt even slightly ill. In fact, I had been positively invigorated.

The sailors, needing every available hand to fight the blustery winds and raging seas, were glad to teach me some seafaring skills. I slept solidly every time I got the chance, and sore muscles and sore hands did nothing to slow me down when I was awake. I felt unexpectedly welcome and at ease amongst the crew, a sensation that had been foreign to me for quite some time. 

When we rounded the southeastern tip of Pandaria, the wind dropped to a caressing breeze and the seas calmed. We had time to enjoy the scenic coastline as we glided smoothly into port. I knew nothing about docking a boat, and the crew had it well in hand, so I stood out of the way with a slightly pale Arator by my side, watching as the shore came ever closer. Arin, I reminded myself, not Arator.

The backstory that Khadgar had provided us was fairly simple and straightforward. I was a village wizard and herbalist, and my companion was a distant cousin that had come to study with me. We had been involved in an unfortunate incident in the village and it was "suggested" that I take a "holiday. " A long holiday. The longer, the better. And I should take my young cousin with me. My mind filled the gaps with images of a burning privy and a screeching mayor. But I knew that the less I said about it, the better. To hedge the details and act sheepish would be more realistic than to describe the events at length. More details also meant more ways to get caught in the lie.

I hadn't quite figured out how to explain, if the question arose, that my "cousin" was half-elven. Matches between humans and elves were rare, though not unheard of, but the only ones I had heard of personally tended to involve high-ranking or otherwise powerful humans. Rhonin and Vereesa. Turalyon and Alleria. Now that I considered it, those were the only ones I knew about.

I glanced at Arator. I wondered how he felt about his parents, unknown to him for his entire life. And now there were rumors that Turalyon and Alleria were still alive somewhere out in the dark beyond, leading an army in the name of the Light against the Legion that sought to consume everything with fel flame. I couldn’t tell by looking at him, to be sure. His face was that carefully neutral mask that proved his elvish heritage, but his eyes were alive, and sparkling with the excitement that a new adventure brings. I decided if the question of his parentage came up, I would have to let him answer it. In the week we had been traveling together, it was already apparent that his mind was quick and flexible,  and more than capable of providing a believable story.

Arin, I reminded myself. And I am Dan. And I hoped I could remember it.

***

Anglers' Wharf rose up out of the very sea, a collection of wooden buildings built on a structure of stilts and platforms in the shallows of the bay. The pandaren fisherman we'd hired to bring us along the coast brought his craft right up to the pier and called out greetings to the nearby folk as he tied off. He gestured at us to leave our things stowed for now, and to join him on the dock.

I was anxious about meeting so many new people at once, in a place that was strange to me. I had been tasked with fitting in, making myself useful, gaining their trust. Me, the shy, lonely wizard who preferred the more remote stacks of the library to even the quietest of the Dalaran cafés. Add to that the relationship that was supposed to exist already with my partner on this journey, and I was very anxious indeed. 

Fantastically enough, Arator had a gift for making people feel at ease. He did almost all the talking, and somehow I felt that I could play my part in the charade pretty closely to my usual reticent, thoughtful self without damaging the success of the mission. He practically seemed to encourage it. Yet he created the illusion that I was the one who made all the decisions. 

I was still uncertain of my welcome with the Anglers and uncomfortable thinking about what the next few weeks might bring, but it seemed like I could at least count on my companion. And the rational part of my mind knew that I would gradually get to know each of the new people and they would differentiate themselves in my mind, and I would probably become at least slightly friendly with a few of them. I hoped.

“We’ve got some empty huts over on the beach there. Feel free to look them over and choose the one you like best. They’re not in the best shape but we can help you make one habitable, easy enough.” A burly, good-looking man was pointing off to the north across a sandbar and a narrow channel, where a cluster of six or seven cabins stood well above the sand on stilts.

I knew he had introduced himself already but I couldn’t remember his name. “Thank you. We really appreciate your hospitality.” I paused, ashamed to have to ask the next question. “What did you say your name was? I’m afraid my memory can be tricky at times.”

He grinned, and clapped me on the shoulder. “No worries, friend. Around here they call me Big Hook, but the name’s John. And if you’re going to be bringing more fish to the pot, you’ll be doing more than enough to earn your place with us. I hope you enjoy your stay!”

I smiled. Perhaps this wouldn’t be as challenging as I had anticipated, if these folk could be taken at their word. I looked to see where Arator had gotten off to, and saw him following a young pandaren with flowers in her hair as she led him around the inner ring of walkways. She stopped outside each building, apparently explaining its function before moving on to the next.

“Nat!” I heard John’s booming voice call out, and I turned to see a weather-worn figure make his way down a ramp from one of the cottages Arator and his companion had not reached. “Come meet our new arrivals.”

He was with us almost immediately, his long legs finding a path through the gathered pandaren that I would not have believed existed until he slipped through. “Greetings!” he said brightly. “I’m Nat Pagle, fisherman and researcher, at your service. Who might you be?” He smelled faintly of beer, and the color in his cheeks and the gloss of his eyes suggested that he may have had more than one pint. This was our target, the man who supposedly had the knowledge we needed. Now I was nervous again.

“You can call me Dan,” I said. “My given name is a lot longer and more complicated, thanks to the wishful thinking of my mother, but I prefer the shortest version. I’m a wizard and an herbalist from a tiny village south of Stormwind that you probably aren’t familiar with, thanks to it having very little in the way of interesting fishing spots. My, er…” How should I introduce Arator first? As my apprentice? Or my cousin? “My apprentice, Arin, and I have been granted a bit of a holiday. Well, it was really a bit of a kerfuffle, you know, and everyone thought it best if we get away for a bit and let everything die down. Young apprentices do get into unfortunate circumstances, don’t they?” I hoped this was a satisfactory bit of enigma. I felt my face flush slightly, and then it occurred to me that it could only help my story.

“Ah, don’t they though,” agreed John. “Friendly boy, though, it seems. Been with you long?”

“A matter of months, really, but he’s by way of being a cousin of mine, so I feel rather responsible.” I saw Arator approaching then, having made his circuit of the village with his new acquaintance, who faded away as the half-elven young man came towards us.

I introduced him to Nat and John. “Pleased to meet you both, sirs. They said in Stranglethorn that you are the most knowledgeable fishermen in all the land, and I’ve been looking forward to hearing some of your famous stories.” Arator, for all his paladin training and natural confidence, was also capable of being quite attractively deferential. It made him seem quite young. He looked at me, an expression of gentle concern crossing his face. He wasn’t all elvish immutability after all. “Master, you look quite exhausted. We should get settled in so you can rest.”

I nodded. “You’re right, as usual. It’s been a long journey.” 

Nat seemed to be in agreement as well. “A little nap is never a bad thing, I say. Get some rest, and come on up later for some dinner and a pint. We can tell you all about fishing Pandaria.” 

“We keep a raft on the beach there. You can use it to go back and forth. Or swim, if you like sharks.” John winked, amused with himself.

Thanking them once more, we took our leave and gathered our friendly pandaren fisherman to ferry us across to the shore with all our gear. And suddenly, as we stood on the foreign beach, looking at a collection of ramshackle bamboo huts, I realized I truly was exhausted. Arator started walking towards one of the nicer looking options, one next to a cluster of palm trees, a bit further from the shore than most of the others. He was carrying most of the gear himself. I smiled at how energetically he threw himself into his role, and followed him. 

***

The sun sat low on the horizon as we poled our raft over to the village. The smells of cooking filled the air, and we followed the sounds of laughter and good-natured chatter as we climbed the ramps to the kitchen-house at the top. Light spilled out the shutters opened to let the evening breezes through. It seemed like a happy place to be, but apprehension stirred in the pit of my stomach. I was not comfortable in large groups of people.

Arator sensed my hesitation outside the door. He touched my elbow and whispered, “Just be yourself, I can cover everything else.” Once again I was grateful that he was with me on this expedition. I followed him through the doorway into the chaos of the evening meal.

I heard John call out a greeting over the din, and saw him shove some folks around to make room for me and Arator at his and Nat’s table. The room held maybe twenty, maybe more, and it was pretty full. Most were pandaren, but there were also a few humans, a goblin, and a tuskarr all the way from Northrend. On our way to sit in the places John had made for us, several hands reached out to shake ours in greeting. We shook them all, and names were exchanged and promptly forgotten. I couldn’t do much about that.

At last we reached the bench reserved for us. We squeezed in and sat down as plates were found for us. Bread and ale and platters of roasted fish and vegetables were passed around. The conversation in the room dropped off a bit, replaced by the clatter of cutlery and clank of pottery as everyone dug in to their dinner with the relish of hard-working folk. As hunger was relieved, the volume rose again. 

“So, I hope you came here because you like to fish,” John said to me over the edge of his ale mug. 

“I do, to the point where my friends think I may be lacking in character. I’m trying to convince Arin that it's good for him, but I don't know that I’ve made much headway.” I nudged Arator with my elbow and he grinned. 

“Fishing is okay. I can think of a lot more exciting things to do, but I like to eat, and fishing means dinner, so…”

Even Nat smiled at this. “It’s a good excuse to have a few brews of an afternoon, too, my boy. Not to mention how fascinating it is to see all the wondrous variety of creatures that swim beneath the surface. You might not believe it,” he paused mid-sentence for a swig of ale, “but I carefully document every different aquatic creature we bring to the surface. I have logs dating back decades, covering all the known territories of Azeroth, Outland, and Draenor.”

Arator’s eyes widened, and I expect mine did too. Were we going to have to go through all these logs? Hopefully we could get some clues to narrow down the search a bit. Or a lot. 

“That must be an impressive collection,” I said. 

“It’s not as large as you might expect. But I use that data to write my field guides, where of course I need to be accurate, or nobody will buy them. And then I wouldn't be able to keep us in beer!”

John laughed. “We have our priorities, after all. Anyway, I should tell you a bit about how things go around here. Usually we go out for ocean fish when the tide is coming in, lake fish around dawn, and river fish at mid-morning or late afternoon. You can fish any time you like, but that's how we typically arrange things, depending on what is in season and what orders we have to fill.”

I nodded. “That sounds reasonable. So there's a schedule?”

“We announce every evening at dinner, and there's a board outside where it's posted if you don't make it to dinner. Depends on the tides and such, you see.” Nat answered. “In fact, it's about that time, John.”

John climbed to his feet and raised his powerful voice above the assembled fisherfolk, who quickly grew quiet. “Okay, everyone. Tomorrow’s catch is reef octopus. Weather looks to be fair, and high tide is just before noon, so head on out early to get the best haul. And don't forget, if you pull up an unusual specimen, bring it back for examination. Thanks everyone, and have a good night.” He sat back down to finish his ale, and turned to me. “Now, you two can come out with me for a while, until you know what you're looking for and how to navigate. Then we might let you out on your own.”

“Catch should be in by three,” said Nat. “Plenty of time for a swim and a nap before dinner.” He grinned and I could have sworn he looked forward to his naps more than his fishing. 

Folks were beginning to leave the kitchen-house, heading out into the early evening air. Before I could make a move to leave myself, John got up and collected a pitcher of ale from the table next to the keg rack.

“Shall we?” he said. “Bring your cups, we’ve the evening to while away under the stars.” And with that he led the way out onto the veranda that faced the western sky. A number of folk from all over Azeroth had gathered there to tell tales and reminisce, and to discuss plans for the future. It seemed to be the usual after-dinner entertainment.

At last I had a chance to practice putting names together with faces. The tuskarr, a walrus-like fellow from Northrend, went by the name of Yotimo. He was quiet, and slow to speak, but when he did he was adept at building up a tale and then dropping an unexpected and hilarious punchline. The goblin I had met at dinner, an explosives expert, was Fiznix. He spent at least half an hour detailing his favorite goblin hotspots and assuring me that if I ever needed a cut rate deal on a stay at one of his cousin’s resorts, he could fix it up for me.

There were but a few of the pandaren visiting with us this evening, the younger ones, and they were monopolizing Arator’s attention. The two young male pandaren were apparently Chu and Sully, though I hadn’t figured out which was which yet. One had an ornate embroidered tunic and bright green eyes, and the other had spiky black hair and an unusual sort of side mustache, and was less fastidious in his dress. Linnshi was the girl who had given Arator the tour of the village, and she had a lovely long auburn ponytail secured on her head with red chopsticks. Perhaps she was just storing her chopsticks in her ponytail. As the evening grew darker, it became harder to tell. 

Nat and John seemed to be the center of the party, though, as they related some of their bigger fish tales by way of bantering with each other. They had been working together, if not actually fishing together, for a number of years, and the depth of their friendship was obvious. I found myself wanting to be friends with these folks because they were fun, and kind to one another, not just because I needed to be for the sake of my mission. And their generosity with the ale didn’t hurt a bit.

***

John’s craft of choice was a small sailboat, large enough to carry a few passengers but small enough that he needed no crew but himself. I offered to help but he insisted I relax and enjoy the ride. We didn’t have far to go, in any case, and the sun rising between the eastern islands of the Krasarang archipelago was glorious to watch.

Arator sat quietly next to me. I was worried he would be seasick, even though the swells were gentle this morning, but his color remained good. “Are you doing alright?” I asked in a voice low enough that John wouldn’t hear.

He looked at me, the long fine strands of his honey-colored hair whipping around him in the wind of our travel. “I am fine. I don’t get seasick. Really. I did not lie when I told you I was frightened of falling overboard on our crossing. The open sea, the waves that will bury you and the currents that will pull you under, the unknown monsters that lurk beneath...here the waters are far less intimidating.”

I nodded, automatically glancing down at the water as he described his fears. “I understand. Honestly, I was surprised that I was unbothered by such concerns. Perhaps I was wishing for such an end.”

Arator’s head tilted slightly at that, but he said nothing. A moment later he was grabbing my arm and pointing off to the port side. “Look! Dolphins!” I followed his gaze and saw the silver arcs of the pod of dolphins as they raced us to the edge of the reef.

John noticed our interest and grinned. “They come with me often,” he called to us. “Friendly critters, they are.” 

We were quickly approaching our destination and John had little time to spare for chatter as he applied himself to pushing the boom against the wind to slow the boat. He had brought us to the very eastern edge of what seemed to be an immense coral reef. A few other boats could be seen scattered across the sea like the thrown pieces of a child’s game. He furled the sail and dropped anchor and we all began unpacking our gear.

The water below us was beautifully clear and we could see all manner of sea life in the coral, even though it was many feet below us. John pointed out the shadowy places where the reef octopus preferred to hide, and gave us each a lure that was known to be attractive to the creature. 

“We’ll fish this spot a while, then move a bit further south, and so on, until we have what we need or it’s time for the tide to shift. I like being out here at the very edge because it’s quieter and less overfished than the inner reaches.”

“It’s a great spot,” I agreed. Most of my experience was with lake and stream fishing, but I knew a lovely place when I saw one. Off to the north a green smudge showed us where the coastline lay, and a few tiny islets, rocks, really, were visible to the southwest, the last fragments of the archipelago that trailed out into the sea like the wake of an enormous turtle. The rising sun was still soft on our faces, though it would be fierce well before noon arrived.

By the time we set up in our third location, we’d caught eight octopus, nearly completing our quota of ten. Their numbers were apparently plentiful this year, and John said our catch were all quite young, yearlings perhaps, though to my eyes they were very large indeed. 

And then the next tug on my line brought up a strange one. It was an octopus, like the others, but it shifted colors as I pulled it up into the air. I gestured to Arator to get me something to put it in, and he grabbed an empty bucket and dipped some seawater into it for me. “John, what is wrong with this one?” I asked. 

He came over and peered into the bucket, where the creature had turned a silvery-brown to match the wood of its surroundings. “Well, I’ll be!” he exclaimed. “Haven’t seen one of those in ages. You’ve got a mimic octopus there, and Nat will be right pleased to see one. Leave it in that pail there and take it straight to him when we get back. And you might want to put a good cover on it, or it will escape.” John smiled at me, and I felt like I’d achieved something. I smiled back.

Arator’s fishing rod started to slip across the deck as he got a nibble on his line and he dove for it, catching it just before he and it would have gone over the side into the water. “Owww,” I heard him groan quietly as he got back to his feet and began to reel in another octopus. Then John rapidly hooked another and we were done fishing, with nearly two hours before we needed to head back. 

“Ahh,” John said as we began to pack up our gear and make our catch secure for the return trip, “It was a good day for fishing. Quick and easy, and even a bit of excitement.” He noticed Arator rubbing the knee he’d bruised when he’d taken the dive. “Still a bit sore there? We’ve got time for a swim before we go. The minerals in the water here seem to make aches and pains just vanish.” He thought about it for a minute, and then continued, “That sun is pretty hot, too. Can’t say as I’d mind a dip myself.” 

John dropped a rope ladder over the side, then began to rapidly divest himself of his clothes. “Last one in’s a murloc’s uncle!” he hollered as he leapt into the sea. Arator and I were both laughing as we followed his lead.

The water was like cool silk against the skin, not cold but not quite warm either, and salty enough that staying afloat was no effort at all. As I was absorbing all these sensations, and the feel of the gentle currents swirling around me, I was surprised by a splash across the side of my face. My “apprentice” was grinning wickedly when I turned to find the culprit.

“Oh, you!” I said and propelled myself up high enough out of the water to dunk him as repayment. We collided as I came down and he bobbed back up, our legs tangled for a second. Arator spluttered saltwater, his golden hair splayed out around him. He put his hands on my shoulders and pushed off, sending us drifting apart.

He was still smiling, though. “I guess I deserved that,” he said, as he tried to clear the hair out of his eyes. John chuckled from where he gently tread water a safe distance away. Arator dove down and swam away from us, his white body lengthened and distorted through the water, but his movement nearly as graceful as the dolphins we’d raced earlier that morning. When he popped up for air twenty yards away, I relaxed. I lay back and let my body float on the swells. It had been years since I’d been swimming and I’d forgotten how much like a lover’s gentle caress the sea could be. I felt free, my naked body warmed by the sun and embraced by the ocean.

I thought of Kalec then, imagining the pleasure we could have if he were here with me instead of John and Arator. It dimmed my joy somewhat. I felt like I was surrendering too easily to the illusion I was meant to be conjuring, as though in just a few days I was already becoming the wayward village wizard, turning my back on my true life. But the sea did not care, it stroked my skin regardless, cooling the places the sun had warmed without judgment. 

And when we returned to the sailboat, and arrived at the Anglers’ village slightly damper than we’d left, I was neither exuberant nor discontent. Detachment had returned, and I did not notice Arator’s eyes upon me.

***

Nat had just pulled his skiff up to the dock and was tying off as John brought us in alongside. The dock workers took the catch from us and helped us with the rest of our gear, and when the organized chaos subsided a little, John got Nat’s attention.

“Nat! Dan’s caught one for you.” He held up the pail that held the color-shifting octopus. Nat’s face lit up with excitement as he came over to see.

“Oooo,” he crooned as he watched the creature shift and shimmer in the confines of the bucket. “A mimic! Tough little guys to catch, and we haven’t seen any for a while.” He looked up at me. “You must know your way around a lure to bring up one of these. Let’s get it back to my study so we can record it.” He took the bucket from John’s hand and started heading up into the village, weaving his way through the folks on the boardwalk with that nimble step he had. I hesitated to follow him, but when he turned and found I was still next to the boat, Nat called out, “Well, come on! You caught it, you get to help.” 

I tried to find the path he’d woven between the chubby pandaren, without much success. But somehow I did manage to catch up to Nat, and he led the way into his bungalow. It was surprisingly tidy. There was a large number of books along one wall, arranged on shelves between open window shutters. They were nothing compared to Khadgar’s collection, but impressive in a bamboo and palm fishing village. Next to the shelves were two very comfortable looking lounge chairs. There was a long table that Nat apparently used as a combination writing desk and work table. One end had a chair and a neat stack of papers and books. The other end was covered in waterproofed cloth, and held a scale and a variety of other measuring instruments. A folding openwork bamboo screen divided the sleeping area in the back from the rest of the room. Through the screen, I could see the large bed was neatly made.

Nat set the bucket down next to the scale, and picked up a volume that looked like some kind of ledger from the other end of the table. He found the page he wanted and set the volume down, with a pencil to hold his place.

“Everyone thinks I just travel the world sampling the ale and snoozing in my boat in between catching a few fish and publishing fishing and travel guides,” Nat said to me. “But I really do make a study of the fish we catch. I collect a lot of data about tides, fish species, rare and unusual creatures, aquatic habitats, and weather patterns. What we’re going to do right now is weigh and measure this octopus, make a note of where it was caught, and see if it has any unusual features.” 

What he said was absolutely true. Pretty much all I had known about him was that he wrote books about fishing and local lore, and liked to spend his time fishing and drinking. It was interesting to see what was behind it all.

I watched as Nat lifted the octopus out of the pail and put it on the scale. It wriggled and its tentacles explored everything it could reach. Nat gently tucked the tentacles back into the tray of the scale as he balanced it with weights, then made a quick notation in his ledger. He carefully lifted the creature out of the scale and laid it out full length on the table and swiftly examined and measured it from top to toe, making another quick notation and returning the octopus to the pail of seawater. The whole process took only a couple of minutes and didn’t seem to harm the beast. 

“So, you were out at John’s favorite octopus spot, I expect? On the eastern reaches?” Nat asked, as he picked up his ledger again.

“Yes, that’s where we were. We’d just set up at our third spot, traveling south each time we moved. So I’m not sure what our exact coordinates would have been.” 

“Ah, I know the general spot. Been there many times. Seen the sun rise and set from there, and all times between.” He wrote carefully in his book. “Used the lure he gave you, yes?”

“Yes. It took the hook like all the other octopus did.” 

“Yes, the mimic octopus seem to be closely related to the standard reef octopus, except they have more advanced camouflage abilities. On the one hand you’d expect they would be more successful than the more easily seen varieties, and therefore you’d catch more of them, but they also seem to be more clever and are more difficult to find and catch. So it’s hard to say if the population is larger or smaller than the reef octopus without a more efficient way to monitor their numbers.” He looked at me and grinned, as if to say he knew he sounded a little obsessive over the details.

I returned the smile. I had spent enough time in Dalaran to have plenty of experience with sweating the details of things. Get one small detail wrong and you accidentally teleport to Azshara instead of Azsuna, or cast frost nova instead of frost orb. And those are the less lethal mistakes to make. I couldn’t tell him this, of course, but I understood.

Nat handed me the pail. “Let’s get this back into the water.” He placed the ledger carefully back on the stack at the far end of the table and turned to lead the way back down to the dock. I cast one last look over my shoulder at the bookshelves. Somewhere amongst those volumes was one that had information about the Ashbringer, something that might be helpful to increase its power. I hoped I’d have a chance to look for it. 

More boats were arriving when we got down to where we’d left Arator and John. Nat directed me to release our mimic octopus back into the water. “Here?” I asked. “He’s so far away from where we caught him.”

“He’ll be fine,” Nat assured me. “Storms can carry them further afield than this.” I accepted this and poured the contents of the bucket back into the sea. Our octopus vanished quickly, his swimming and camouflage skills proving their worth. I said a silent farewell, then turned to where the work went on bringing in the catch. Arator and John were already helping lift baskets and buckets of octopus up to the ready hands of the dock crew. I joined them.

At last the boats were unloaded, the tackle sorted and stowed, the fish given over to the crew of sorters and packers. Stuffed buns had been passed around to ease our hunger, and pitchers of mild ale to ease our thirst. Our time was now our own, to mend gear that needed mending, to socialize, to work on other projects, or to rest. A few of the Anglers remained in loose groups on the pier, discussing afternoon plans. 

Arator finished securing our gear to our raft and then climbed back to stand next to me. “What else would you like me to do, sir?” he asked politely. I still was not quite used to having someone at my command, even though I knew it wasn't truly the power structure it was meant to appear. 

“Oh! Er, well, I haven't anything for you to do today. We’ve gotten the cabin quite comfortable, and our fishing gear is in good repair… I was thinking of just having some quiet time, so I suppose your time is your own until dinner.” I was really looking forward to just sitting quietly and watching the waves for a while, and letting the thoughts fade from my mind. I hadn't even considered what Arator might do during that time. 

“Really?” He sounded surprised, and that hint of boyish enthusiasm had crept back into his voice. I realized that John and Nat were nearby, and I was sure he was playing it up for their benefit.

“Yes, really. Go have some fun, you’ve earned a break.” 

“Thank you, sir. I will try to use my time wisely.” He looked over to where his new friends were gathered.

“Wisely or unwisely, it doesn't matter. Just stay out of trouble and be back for dinner.” I smiled briefly. It was a bit like having a son, perhaps, only much less work and worry. 

Arator returned the smile, his eyes sparkling, before he went to join the younger Anglers. I stepped out onto our raft and began to pole it through the shallow water to the beach and our cabin. I thought I could feel eyes watching me go, but I didn’t give in to my need to see if I was right. I was tired straight through, mind and body, and I wasn’t going to feed my insecurities any more than necessary.

I beached the raft and put the fishing tackle away before I forgot. Then, once inside the cabin, I opened the shutters to the breeze, and stripped off my dirty clothes. I conjured a bowl of cool water to wash myself, and did so. There was a fresh linen shirt hanging on a peg next to my bed, and a pair of soft blue trousers--my favorite of the clothing Khadgar had put together for me--folded neatly on top of the aged trunk that the previous inhabitant of the cottage had left behind. I dressed myself and as I buttoned up the trousers I felt a shadow pass across me. I swore I heard the swish of great wings. Dragon wings.

I ran outside and peered up into the sky, but there was nothing out of the ordinary. A few gulls, a crane off in the distance, but no dragons. No enormous eagles like those from tales told round campfires. Just the sun, the sea, the sand, and the Anglers’ village a quarter mile away. Sighing, I descended the stair from the cabin to the beach, and walked across the warm sand in my bare feet to the odd contraption of canvas and bamboo that Fiznix had told me was a beach chair, popular at all the goblin seaside and lakeside resorts. It was comfortable, anyway, and Arator had figured out how to set it up, and took care to locate it where it would always be in the afternoon shade. He did look after me well.

My head was buzzing, like everything was just a bit too much, like I had been surrounded by too many people for too long. If I was imagining dragons, I was definitely past needing a break. I watched the waves curl over themselves and kiss the slope of sand before sliding back into the next ones. The confusion began to fade. Dragons indeed. If Kalec had come here, he would have known I was here. He would have shown himself to me. Wouldn’t he? He could have done it when no one was there to see. I thought of all the times over the years when he had appeared almost out of nowhere, as if I was a homing signal that only he could hear. Why now did he not show his face, when I wanted to see it the most?

I tried to picture it, to see him in my mind’s eye, but the image was fuzzy, like a painting darkened with soot. But Arator’s face was clear and bright and came easily to me, unbidden. I remembered his hair swirling around him in the water, and blowing in the wind, hiding and revealing his face, his jaw, his cheekbones. His eyes. They were like a clear autumn sky, that unmatchable blue. And then in my mind they shifted to a familiar dark and shadowy violet, and the face became Kalec's, and I was relieved. I had not forgotten. 

At last I relaxed, and the sound of the waves and the caress of the warm breeze on my tired body soothed me into sleep. I drifted dreamlessly until a noise woke me. Arator and the three pandaren nearest his age were coming out of the forest towards me, with the two youngest villagers giggling and chasing each other. Arator’s hands were full of shiny green leaves, which he presented to me as soon as the group reached my chair.

“We collected these herbs for you, sir. I thought you would be interested in the local plants.” His eyebrow arched slightly as he played the part of the dutiful apprentice.

“Thank you, Arin. I am indeed interested. What are these, and what are they used for?” I asked. The pandaren had settled on the ground around me, and Arator joined them.

Linnshi answered my question before any of the others could speak. “They are green tea leaves. We use them to make restoratives, mostly. And a mildly stimulating tea that calms the nerves and settles the stomach.”

“Ah,” I said. “I like a nice cup of tea.” And I had an idea of something that might entertain the children, and show that yes, I did truly have magic skills, and knew something of herbalism. I laid the leaves in my lap. With the fingers of one hand, and a few whispered arcane words, I conjured a long-handled crucible into my other hand. I handed it to Arator. I saw the eyes of the children widen.

Arator held the tool just as I’d handed it to him, with the cup towards me. I whispered a few more words and water appeared to pour from my finger into the vessel. When it was full enough to satisfy me, I snapped my fingers and the water stopped. Then I held my left hand beneath the crucible, and I wove a flame that danced above my open palm, warming the ceramic and heating the water. There were gasps and sighs from the circle of pandaren as the flame appeared. Because the fire was magically derived, it heated the water very quickly, and as bubbles began to rise, I crushed a handful of the leaves and dropped them into the water. 

Another minute and the water had turned a lovely shade of spring green, and I could just detect a hint of sweetness on the steam that rose towards me. I snuffed the flame, and took the handle of the crucible from Arator. One more conjuring, and the show would be complete. On the ground before me a tray with seven tiny cups appeared, and I carefully tipped a bit of the freshly brewed tea into each of them, then allowed the crucible to vanish.

“But the tea,” one of the children asked, her brown eyes troubled. “Will it disappear too?”

“Only into your stomach,” I answered gently, and lifted a cup of tea to drink from it. “That’s very good,” I said. “Thank you for sharing this with me.”

Linnshi smiled, bowed her head graciously, and took a cup. Arator and the others followed suit, and it broke the enchantment my little performance had cast upon the group. They began telling me stories of the Krasarang wilds, and of the nearby provinces. The little girl, whose name turned out to be Rai, seemed to be rather smitten with Arator and asked him shyly if she might braid his hair. He generously allowed her to do so, and was rewarded with a fine smooth plait, decorated with the tiny purple flowers that grew under the trees near where we sat. 

I was finally able to learn which pandaren was Chu and which was Sully, and could tell that they had been best friends for a very long time. Linnshi was apparently the sister of Sully and the little boy with the stubby ponytail on top of his head, Marri. Chu was Rai’s cousin. I had quite forgotten what it was like to be in a family environment, and though I expected they had their quarrels and struggles like anyone, today it was a very enjoyable experience. Arator appeared to appreciate it, too.

All too soon, the sun was setting and it was time for dinner. The pandaren took their own raft back to the village as I cleaned up our tea things by letting them dissipate back into the ether from whence they came. I carried the remaining tea leaves up into our cabin, where I spread them out on the table to dry. Arator followed me, and changed his shirt, but left the flowers in his hair. I offered him the remainder of the clean water I had conjured earlier in the afternoon to wash his hands and face, and he did so.

“It suits you,” I said.

“The flowers?” he asked as he dried his face.

“The braid. It would keep your hair out of your face in the wind and the water, at least.” But I couldn’t help but smile. “Okay, yes, and the flowers.”

Arator grinned, and led the way to our raft and to dinner.

***

A fortnight passed without incident. We fished, we swam, and we slept. We listened to our new friends’ stories and learned interesting things about their lives and about Pandaria. I had spent a few months in the Valley of the Four Winds some five years ago, a lush and open landscape, full of farms and industry, but the other regions I knew very little about. 

The Anglers made good their welcome, and treated us as family from the start. And I felt like Nat and John saw me as an equal. It didn't completely eliminate my anxiety, but I could feel my confidence improve. I had felt uncertain and powerless since I had realized Malygos had shattered my mind, but this place and these people were helping me to heal.

Arator proved to be very reliable and very kind. He was willing to take on any task, including reducing my discomfort in awkward social situations. To grease the social wheels a bit, we came up with a few “remember when” stories to add to the pool of reminiscences that were shared of an evening over a pitcher of ale. 

“Remember that time Missy Harcorte’s cat was walking along the edge of the inn roof and fell off into the rain barrel? Poor thing. Didn't stop it going on the roof, though.”

“Remember when I had just taught you to cast a frostbolt and you thought you could use it to freeze a path across the surface of Blackwell’s Pond? And then you ran out of mana halfway across and the ice melted and dropped you right in.”

Our anecdotes fetched some laughter, and I hoped they were believable enough that everyone would accept that we were who we said we were. It was certainly easy enough for me to get along with my companion, and it seemed he felt the same. We were allowed out on our own now to fish, at least where a seagoing vessel wasn't necessary, and it was pleasant to work alongside Arator. I still missed Kalec daily, and longed to at least be able to talk about him, but the good company eased my pain somewhat. 

One evening, after a long day digging for clams, we were rewarded with a bit of a celebration. Supplies had arrived from the north, including fresh beer and some other Pandaren delicacies to add some variety to our seafood-rich diet. It was announced at dinner that there would be a bonfire on the beach that evening after the meal, and a completely free day on the morrow. The level of excitement in the dining hall rose. Even our rest days were usually filled with tasks to prepare for the next day’s work. A free day meant the potential for a wild night. 

The fire crackled and sparks rose, spiraling into the warm night air. We had tapped a keg of the newly arrived shipment of Stormstout brew, and the older fishermen relaxed with their cups around the fire as the younger ones frolicked in the surf.

I listened to the jovial tone of the conversation around me without really paying attention, my mind elsewhere. My eyes were on Arator, as it had recently occurred to me that Kalec’s humanoid body was supposedly half-elven, yet it looked nothing like Arator’s. It fascinated me that they were so different. Was Kalec so unlike Arator because his half-elven form was only a sort of imagining, or was it a true half-elven body of an alternate lineage? It occurred to me that Arator was the son of a human father and a high elf mother, and it was not impossible that a human mother and some other sort of elven father would produce a very different appearance. Breeding was so unpredictable. Still, I was transfixed, and turning the problem over and over in my mind was almost a way of bringing Kalec close to me. I missed him terribly, almost to the point of pain.

“That’s a fine lad you’ve got there.” John’s voice broke through my reflections. He had apparently followed my gaze as I contemplated the angles of Arator’s body and face.

I took a long drink of my ale. “Yes. He’s smart and works very hard. I’m not sure I can make an herbalist or a spellcaster out of him but I have no doubt he’ll find his way without much trouble.”

“How about your own future?” he asked. “You’re welcome to stay here as long as you like, if you’re not wanted in your village. Small towns and small minds often go together, I find, but we are accepting of all sorts of folk here.”

My heart was warmed by his invitation. “I thank you for your kindness, but I expect after we’ve been away a while, they won’t be too bothered by our return home. Although it may be wise to find a different situation for Arin, just for safety’s sake.” My mind had fully developed my fantasy of the mayor’s privy being set alight by a wayward and uncontrolled spell. It amused me, especially as I remembered wanting to do it myself as a young mage.

“Well,” said John, “he’s a good-looking boy. No doubt he’ll set tongues to wagging wherever he goes. I experienced a bit of that myself in my day. But Nat’s looked out for me, and eventually things settled down. I expect if he sticks with you, Arin will be just fine. I can tell you care.”

I watched as Arator dove into a wave to avoid a ducking by one of the pandaren youths. His slender form was graceful and well-shaped, but it said little to me of the dragon I loved. “Yes, I suppose so,” I replied vaguely, my mind already returned to images of Kalec. 

***

In my slumber that night I heard familiar voices, but it was as if they were distant, and it took me some time to translate the sounds into words. One voice I knew nearly as well as my own. Kalec! And the other was...Khadgar? Yes, that was it. I struggled to wake and join the conversation, but the tendrils of sleep held me fast.

"What has happened? Why do you have Aluneth hidden away?" Kalec sounded angry and frightened. 

"Aluneth is stored for safekeeping while his bearer is away on a mission," Khadgar replied calmly. "I thought I made sure to hide him from all discovery, but I suppose if anyone could find a magic object... Why are you so troubled, friend?" 

"My lover disappears with no word to me, his most treasured possession magically concealed from view, and you ask why I am troubled?" I was almost worried for Khadgar, because I could tell Kalec was about to start breathing fire. Clearly my assumption that the Council of Six had been involved in the planning of this mission was misguided. I wished I could see this confrontation as well as hear it, but I was confined to the darkness of the dreamworld. There was a certainty in me, though, that this was not merely a dream. It was more like eavesdropping through a dimensional rift.

"Your lover?" Khadgar's voice registered surprise and shock, cracking like a boy’s. He cleared his throat, giving himself a chance to recover. "I was completely unaware of this. If I had known I would have told you what I could of my plans, but as it was, I had to act quickly." There was a pause, and when he spoke again, the tone of his voice was very serious. I couldn't understand why. "Why did you not tell me?"

I felt as much as heard Kalec sigh in exasperation. "We had agreed that all was well with your own situation, and with my history I thought it wise to keep quiet for now. You know what Dalaran is like. Even if I trust you, I cannot be sure that someone else is not listening. And you have had much more serious matters to consume your attention. Now why did you need to act so quickly and what have you done with Dai?"

"He was sleepwalking. Turned up one night in my study while I was working." I felt my stomach drop. So this was the truth of it. "I know that the work he did in Azsuna was tiring, what with his history with blue dragons. He earned a rest. He clearly needed it. We can't have somnambulant wizards wandering through Dalaran. Especially not now, it's far too dangerous. And with Aluneth...we can't be sure that the spirit of that staff wasn't involved somehow. Even if he wasn't, Daiedan's unconscious actions could have put the artifact, not to mention himself and the entire city, at risk. So I gave him a break from the city, from stressful work, and from Aluneth."

"And if I had only known, if you had TOLD me, I could have handled it quite well myself. You knew at least that I am his guardian, that I made that promise." Kalec was still prickly. I was too. If this dream was a true-seeing, well, a true-hearing, and I believed it was, I had been handled like a witless child. I remembered thinking there was something Khadgar wasn't telling me.

"I'm sorry, Kalec. But I've sent him somewhere safe and peaceful, with a trustworthy companion who should be well able to handle anything that arises. It was all rather convenient, really, because I needed to keep Arator safe and busy too, until we learn what's happened to his parents. And I did truly send them on a top secret information-gathering mission." It was quiet for a brief moment, and then Khadgar continued, his voice fading from my hearing. "I thought it was pretty clever, actually, given that I came up with it on the spur of the moment..."

Suddenly I felt despair tugging me down into its depths. I yearned for Kalec's presence, to see his eyes light up when he smiled, to feel his arms around me. We had already been apart for four weeks, and there was no telling how many more weeks there would be before we were able to resume our usual lives. And he hadn't even told his closest human friend about our relationship, after we had spent four months together. Would there be a usual life to return to? 

And then he was there, embracing me, stroking my hair. I began to come up from the dark chamber of sleep, excited to be with my love again. But when my eyes opened it was not Kalec who held me, and I was startled and propelled myself backwards so forcefully I fell off the other side of my cot.

Arator leaned over and offered me a hand up. "I'm sorry if I scared you," he said quietly. "But you were having a wild dream, and thrashing about and trying to speak, and I was worried. I was trying to calm you."

I accepted his hand and pulled myself to my feet. "Thank you," I said, embarrassed. I wondered if Khadgar had told Arator about the sleepwalking too. I felt quite reluctant to tell him about the dream-vision. "I must have been a bit overtired. I was dreaming of home." This wasn't entirely false. I rubbed the bridge of my nose to stop the pricking feeling in my eyes. It wouldn't do to be overcome by emotion now, not here.

I sat down next to him on the narrow bed. The raw longing for Kalec was still fresh, the sound of his voice still in my ears. The fire of his anger at my disappearance reassured me that he truly did care for me, although nothing could completely dispel my doubt. Had he not also mentioned his promise? His duty? Although the one to whom he had made the promise was no longer alive to see it done…

Arator laid his hand lightly on my shoulder. A warmth radiated from it beyond the normal warmth of another body. “Do not be troubled,” he whispered. He had touched me with his power of Light, and it swirled through me like stardust. It made a faint radiance around us as though he had lit a candle. In the glow of it, I could see his eyes, and the softness of his expression. For that moment, I felt whole and alive. I raised my hand to cover his, and it was like a connection was made. 

“Thank you,” I whispered. 

***

“Where do you go when you look so far away?” Arator’s voice startled me. I had almost forgotten he was with me. “Is it family you’re thinking of?”

I netted another suncrawler and carefully stowed it in the basket we had brought for the purpose before answering. 

“No, not really. I haven’t got much family anymore.” I studiously avoided making eye contact, but it was unnecessary, because Arator was tracking another suncrawler. He caught it deftly and added it to our collection.

“I was just wondering,” he said. “You’re off in your own world a lot, and sometimes it really seems to bring you down.” He paused. “I’m sorry, I worry about things that are none of my business. I guess it’s in my nature to try and make everyone safe and happy.”

I was touched that he even noticed. “It’s alright. I guess...well, I really miss someone, and I think about it more than I should, I suppose.” I picked up the basket and began pushing through the undergrowth to where I could see a few more of the fireflies we were hunting, blinking off and on in the shadows of the evening forest.

Arator followed, taking hold of the branches I held back for him. “I see. If you’d like to talk about it, I will listen. Sometimes it makes the person you long for feel more real if you talk about them. You can trust my discretion.”

I had already cautiously begun to trust him, even after a decade of not feeling I could rely upon anyone, not even my own mind. Hesitantly, I began to explain in the briefest manner possible.

“Very few people know that the Kirin Tor sent spies to try to find ways to defeat Malygos in Northrend, but I was one of those spies, and Malygos found me and shattered my mind.” Even in the shadows I could see the shock on Arator’s face. “But I survived, and as I recovered over these last years, there was one person who would visit me occasionally, to see that I was thriving. And this last year, when my mind began to recover what had happened, he was there to help me through. And…” Even such a basic retelling brought on the twisting in my gut, the longing that often accompanied my daydreams of Kalec. “I love him. I loved him before, and even though I forgot it, forgot him, in the trauma, I loved him again when he came to me. And now he knows I love him, and I think he loves me too.”

I ran out of words to explain, and Arator was silent for a few minutes.

When he spoke again, his voice was soft, as shadowed as the forest around us. “And here you are forced to be secret, where he cannot find you. I can see why you would be sad. I am sorry.”

There was a sudden rush of wind through the trees, and a shiver went up my spine. I reached out my free hand and lightly touched Arator’s arm. “I just miss him very much. It’s hard when I don’t know when I will see him again.”

He turned his face towards mine. “That’s a feeling I know well,” he said.

I didn’t know how to answer that. I stood there, awkwardly, holding my basket of suncrawlers. The night was deepening around us. 

“We have enough fireflies, I think.” Arator changed the subject. “And it’s getting dark. We should probably return before we get lost.”

“You’re right,” I said, and it was true for more than just the observation that we would probably lose our way in the dark. But I didn’t move, and neither did he. Then, all in one smooth motion, he dropped his firefly net and slipped his arms around my waist, embracing me. I let my net fall too, and held him as close as I could with one hand between his shoulderblades. I could feel his heart beating against my chest, the silk of his hair against my cheek. And then as swiftly as it had begun it was over, and he was picking up our nets and leading the way back towards the edge of the forest. All I could do was follow, bewildered, as the jungle birds began their raucous twilight chorus around us.

***

Night-fishing had something of an air of festival about it, our normal daily activities transformed into something more fantastic, more surreal. To make things even more unusual, my partner and I were to be separated. I was to be going out with Nat and John, and Arator with Chu and Sully. Suncrawlers were pooled and divided up to ensure everyone had enough to catch their quota, and every boat went out with a basket like the one I’d carried into the forest, full of fluttering, blinking insects. The brightly glowing bait was apparently perfect for attracting disoriented emperor salmon in the muddy waters where rivers met tides. 

“Here, Dan, light this, would you?” Nat handed me a lantern. With a flick of my fingers the wick was glowing, and I handed it back to him. He hung it on the crook that John had just mounted in the bow of the boat. “Got everything secure? Great, let’s go catch some salmon!”

There were just enough boats to maximize the haul over the two large Krasarang river estuaries without crowding. One by one they made their way out from Anglers’ Wharf, lanterns bobbing gently over the waves.

Within the hour we were stationed at the outer edge of where the Dojani river met the sea. The soft lantern light was reflected in the gentle surface ripples that inaccurately represented the tumult beneath. 

John opened the hatch of the basket and captured a dizzy suncrawler. Cupping it delicately in his hands, he asked me, “Have you baited with one of these before, Dan?”

“No,” I admitted honestly. “Can’t say that I have. What do I need to know?”

He showed me how to attach the doomed creature to my hook without killing it, to keep it flickering as I cast my line into the sediment-rich water. I only accidentally terminated one before I figured out how to maneuver them properly. And so we settled into the rhythm of fishing. After a few casts, Nat slipped his hand into his satchel and pulled out a bottle of beer and passed it to me, then pulled out another and passed it to John. Finally he pulled one out for himself. 

I unfastened the patent wire bail that kept the stopper in place and took a draught. The beer was still fairly cool, and I felt the promise of relaxation in the nutty bitterness. As more beer was in me and less was in the bottle, the promise was fulfilled. I caught a couple of salmon of fair size and then there was a long stretch when I was getting no nibbles at all. Nat seemed to be having the same trouble. He got up from where he had settled in the stern and worked his way around the rigging to where John was set up in the bow. I watched as he leaned over John to speak to him, his hand on John’s shoulder, his mouth close to John’s ear so that he could keep his voice low. John turned his head to meet Nat’s eyes and nodded to whatever he had suggested. It was probably the beer, but I could have sworn more passed between them in that glance than just a simple acknowledgement. Their faces were so close for a moment...no, I had to be mistaken. The buzzing in my brain and my confusion about Arator had to be influencing my interpretation of the scene.

At any rate, the tableau shifted before I could study it thoroughly. John got up and weighed anchor, preparing to move to new coordinates. Nat signaled to me to secure myself and I did so. We traveled a couple of hundred yards closer to shore before we dropped anchor again. It brought us closer to another boat, and we could hear muffled conversation from them echoing across the water. 

“Another beer?” Nat asked in his quietest voice. John nodded, and I did too. He passed them round and we cracked the seals. “A couple more hours and the tide will change,” he added. “We’ll try for another half dozen salmon in that time. Now if those boys would just keep the noise down…”

I looked across the water from my seat on the starboard side of the boat. I saw a flash of pale hair in lamplight. Yes, it was Chu’s boat across from us. And Arator was just there, his recently-adopted braid swinging and catching the light as he moved. My pulse picked up and my breathing grew quicker. What was happening to me? My inhibitions and self-control eased by the alcohol, I found myself desiring my companion. Arator was young, attractive, kind. He hadn’t been distressed by my professed love for what was nominally a man. And then it dawned on me what I was contemplating. I had only been separated from Kalec for a handful of weeks and I was already looking for alternatives. 

I took another long drink of my beer, and found the bottom of my bottle. Setting the empty vessel aside, I struggled to focus on baiting my hook and casting gracefully enough to get the bait out away from the side of the boat, trying to transcend the war between my will and my desires. I was blessed with a bite on my hook and was forced to concentrate on bringing in another salmon.

It was a big one, too, and for a little while I was unsure whether it was me or the fish doing the reeling-in. By the end of the struggle, Nat and John were standing next to me, their hands on my shoulders. Whether it was for my balance or theirs, I wasn’t sure. They encouraged me in soft words as my muscles strained to pull the fish to me. At last, the fish was on the deck and John struck it neatly on the head to stop its thrashing. 

Nat gave a low whistle. “That’s a big one indeed,” he said. He clapped me on the back in congratulations. “Nice catch, friend. I’m not sure we even need to try for more. Nice work indeed. You’ve all the makings of quite a fine angler.” He turned to his partner. “John, let’s take her home.” John turned the boat and we were soon underway, headed for port. I saw other boats join us, their lanterns dancing over the water. 

In the blur of the trip back, I wondered, did I just go up a notch in Nat’s estimation? Was I closer to free access to his library? He had already loaned me a copy of his Pandaria fishing journal to learn from, but I only saw the inside of his bungalow when I brought in a rare catch that he needed to record.

And then, through it all, I thought of Arator again, and his strong, agile body. It was like I could still feel him pressed against me as he had been earlier that day. And his face, so confident most of the time, but occasionally revealing his vulnerability, his capacity for tenderness. He had found a way through my defenses, and I couldn’t deny I was susceptible. I just had to bear it as best I could and hope that our mission would finish before it became an issue.

By the time we tied off at Anglers’ Wharf, I was in a state of elation. I was still feeling the beer, but also the pleasure at having moved measurably closer to our mission goal, and whether it was right or not, the sweet rush of discovering my desire for my “apprentice”. And when Nat held up my massive catch for all to see, I felt no embarrassment at the attention. 

“Seventy pounds! Congratulations!” John was the first to shake my hand and give my shoulders a squeeze. Everyone that had arrived in time to see came by to do and say similar things. Even Arator, and I admit I was rather more enthusiastic about hugging him than Chu or Sully or Yotimo. I had expected the excitement that had been pervasive before we took the boats out to have dissipated with work and exhaustion, but now it was downright celebratory, and surely my record catch wasn’t the entire reason. 

Everyone pitched in to get the salmon packed in ice or salt as quickly as possible so we could move on to the important business of carousing, and it wasn’t long before we had piled into the dining hall to get right down to it. The tables had been pushed to the perimeter of the room, and Nat had an extra keg tapped specifically for the occasion.

Someone brought out a flute, and someone else a guitar, and another person had a small hand drum, and there were exhibition dances and drunken sing-alongs, and even a couple of romantic ballads that brought a handful couples to the dance floor. I smiled to see that more than one couple was not the traditional male-female pairing, not counting the time that Chu and Sully got up to dance comically for the entertainment of their friends. I looked over at Arator where he sat a few tables away, and wished for a moment that I could be holding him close with the music around us, barely moving like these other couples. He turned his head just slightly then, and caught me staring, and smiled. I felt my face grow hot, but I smiled back before returning my attention to the wild story Nat was telling at my table.

The party went on until dawn began to pry at the cracks of the shutters. We cleared the tables before we all went back to our beds. I let Arator handle our raft, since he seemed at least a bit more sober than I felt. Once on the beach, he draped my arm over his shoulders and wrapped his arm around my waist, and together we managed to make it up the stairs to our cabin.

“I heard a lot of interesting things tonight,” he said, as we got ready for bed. “Sully likes to gossip, and apparently we’re now accepted enough that he didn’t mind gossiping in front of me. He’s also a bit nosy and asked me a bunch of questions. Don’t worry though, I didn’t reveal anything that should remain hidden. But I may have let him believe some things we didn’t plan for…”

“Oh yes? Like what?” I asked, my head already on my pillow.

“He asked how long we’d been together, because to him it seemed like it hadn’t been long.”

This triggered a stab of anxiety. If they knew we had only met to make this trip, it could give the game away. “Why did he think that?”

Arator reached over to turn down the lantern before lying down. When it was dark he answered, “Because we look at each other like we’re still crazy in love.”

***

“They really think we're lovers? Couldn't two people be any of a number of other things? Friends, relatives, teacher and pupil, master and apprentice.” I couldn't get over it. It was too close to my inappropriate desires. I cast my line again, a little too forcefully. 

“Yes, but you aren't treating me like an apprentice.” Arator was grinning, confound him. “More like…a protégé. You give me too much respect and free time. You treat me like an actual person. You care about my feelings and my opinions.”

“Well, we’re on holiday.” 

“But if I were your apprentice you would  _ always _ treat me as such. And who takes their apprentice on holiday with them?” he asked. 

“Fair,” I conceded. “I hope they don’t treat you badly for it, and it doesn’t make you uncomfortable.”

“It doesn't bother me at all. For once I’m not ‘that poor boy who was practically orphaned.’ It's nice to think that people don't look at me and see that, that they see someone who is loved and cared for, someone who has someone to care for in return.” 

“Am I so affectionate?” I had been so tangled up in my own head that it hadn't occurred to me to seriously consider Arator’s perspective. 

“Don't worry, you don't make overt displays. It's just easy to imagine your actions in the context of affection, with a little judicious suggestion. And somehow they got the idea that we were sent away from our village because we were caught in an indecent act.” He winked. When he spoke again, it was at a lower volume. “Although, it may come down to needing to be more obvious. We may need to sustain the fiction to protect our true goals from being discovered. I respect your commitment to your love, but will you be able to set that aside for our safety here and now?”

“I think he would understand. Do you think our safety may be at risk?” Instinctively, I lowered my voice another notch to match his. 

“I’m not certain, but there's definitely someone approaching through the undergrowth, trying very carefully to not be seen or heard.” He indicated the direction with an eyebrow. I could perceive some movement in the bushes in that quarter with my peripheral vision. I dared not turn and look directly. I knew my companion’s senses were more acute than my own, and I trusted that he had spotted only a spy, not an assassin. 

“So when you said here and now…” I trailed off, not sure where my thoughts were taking me. 

He spoke then in a clearer voice, one that carried better across the water. “I only want to please you, but you keep turning me away.” 

“You know how I get when I am anxious. Life has been anything but simple lately.” I paused, and then it occurred to me to add, “I already caused you so much trouble at home.” I played the part Arator had given me. It was fairly obvious anyway. 

“I don’t care about trouble,” he replied. “I only want to help you relax. Please, there's no one around for miles. It's just you and me and the boat.” He turned the full force of his blue eyes on me. I was almost unsure if he was still acting, so I stalled a bit more. 

“But I promised we'd bring back eels. They will wonder if we don't return with enough.”

He leaned over and checked our haul. “How many do we have now? Eight? That's plenty. We have time for something more fun than fishing.” 

And then he turned to me, carefully positioning himself before me, on his knees between my thighs. He removed the fishing rod from my hands and set it aside. His slender hands pulled my face to his and he began to kiss me tentatively, and instinctively my arms went around him and pulled his body close. I shivered when I felt his abdomen firm against my groin. I silently apologized to Kalec for my waywardness, but I let my body take control. 

Our kisses became more passionate as we learned to read each other's responses, until Arator pulled back. He began to unbutton my shirt, his bright eyes never straying from mine. He continued on, unbuttoning my trousers as well, relieving some of the pressure I felt there. He dragged his long fingers slowly down my bare chest, following with his lips barely a moment later. I sighed heavily as the stimulation echoed through my nerve endings. My eyes closed, and for some length of time I knew little but the movement of the boat on the water and the feel of Arator’s mouth and fingers on my most sensitive parts. 

I gripped the gunwales of the rowboat for support as my body leapt with a will of its own towards the delicious sensations he was stirring. I had to warn him of my impending release. 

“Arin,” I whispered. “I’m…” and he seemed to take that as the cue to take me deeper into his throat. I saw stars as he carried me over that threshold into ecstasy. 

***

My world was upside down for the next few days. I was euphoric in my infatuation with Arator while simultaneously feeling like Kalec was constantly at my side. The biggest struggle was to remain cool when every glance from Arator, every casual contact set my pulse racing. Maybe the Anglers thought we were lovers, but I was never entirely sure whether he believed it too, or he was just playing the role for their benefit. I was clearly too simple to act a part without becoming it.

But when he gave me a hand up from the raft one evening before dinner, and his hand lingered a little too long in mine, and he pulled me a little too close, close enough that I could smell the spicy pandaren soap he’d washed with, I practically leapt away. “They’ll see us,” I whispered.

Arator stepped closer again. And then he slipped, something he’d never done. He used my real name. “Dai. They don’t care. You remember the nightfishing party. There are same sex couples in residence here. They’re accepted. We’re accepted. They already think we’re lovers.”

Time seemed to stop as I looked into his eyes. “Do you think we are?” I asked, my heart thumping in my chest.

He hesitated. His self-confidence seemed to falter for a minute. “Aren’t we?” 

I felt his fingers slip around my wrist, but I couldn’t take my eyes from his face. There were people around us, heading up the boardwalks to the dining hall, but all I could see was the young man before me. I lifted my free hand to brush back the stray lock of hair that had escaped from his braid, and it lingered along the corner of his jaw. I answered his question the only way I could think of. I kissed him. His lips parted under mine, inviting me into him as he’d done that day in the jungle. But we still had dinner to attend, so I broke away, and accepted his invitation as a promise for another time.

***

It was Arator’s idea to string a hammock between two of the trees near our hut. Though we could tell that summer would soon come to a close, the afternoons were still quite hot, and the breeze under the trees was always more pleasant than the inside of the cabin, no matter how many shutters we threw open.

I held the hammock taut to give him the slack he needed to make the last knots.

“There!” Arator said. “Now to test it out. You know how not to fall out, right?” He winked at me.

“May I remind you that I did indeed sleep in one on the journey here? On rough seas. And did not fall out.” I demonstrated my skill at hammock use, showing I knew how to lie straight in the curve of the netting. He nodded approvingly, then surprised me by joining me.

“I think it should sustain heavy use, and possibly gale force winds, if it can hold both of us.” The strength test was complete, but neither of us moved to get out.  Instead, Arator shifted so that his back rested against my chest. His golden plait slipped down between us and exposed his neck to me. Somehow this felt more intimate than anything we had shared thus far. 

He sighed, his jocularity gone, and I responded by slipping my arm around his waist, cradling him gently against my chest. He relaxed into me, and we lay there in silence for a while, letting the breeze wrap around us and the sound of the waves comfort us.

“Is this what love feels like?” he asked at last. “I have no experience with it, with this feeling. The Light warms me, sustains me, but now I feel...safe. A different kind of warmth, one that makes me look forward to every day.”

I should have been startled, but very little Arator did startled me anymore. “I suppose it is one kind of love,” I replied. “It’s a kind of contentment, to be sure. Perhaps even happiness?”

He twined his fingers with mine as they lay on his belly, following the pattern of his breath. “It feels like I’m living,” he said softly. “I hadn’t realized how cold my life had been. I’ve spent my whole life wishing my parents hadn't abandoned me, and searching for them, and not much else. And now that I may actually meet them, I really have very little to show for myself. I would like to be able to say, ‘here are the things I have experienced, the lives I have changed for the better, the love I have shared,’ but I have nothing, really.”

This was a feeling I knew well myself. “Your own life will never seem exceptional to you, because it is your daily existence and you are too familiar with its context. When you see someone else’s bravery, or heroism, or kindness, you see it as a point of light, without all the other things that cloud your view of yourself. Trust me when I say that most of those people don’t think they’re exceptional either. They’re just doing what needs to be done to continue forward.”

“You seem so wise for someone who is barely older than me, Dan.”

I almost chuckled out loud. “I should say I have at least a good fifteen years on you. We wouldn’t be able to pull off the master/apprentice thing at all otherwise.”

The tendons in his neck flexed and the edge of his cheek bunched up, giving away the fact that he was smiling. “As though we ever did. I know the fishermen all think I’ve only seen nineteen summers...well, I suspect a few of them think it’s fewer than that, but it’s truly been nearer thirty. I can thank my ageless mother for that. And you don’t look like you’ve seen more than thirty-five.” Arator turned his head to look at me over his shoulder.

My eyebrows rose a bit at that. “That’s very kind, but honestly I’ve been around for ten more. At least.” I had tried to write out a full chronology of my life after I had reconstructed my memories of Northrend, but I had been forced to accept that I could never absolutely prove it because my life was not documented in the ways that someone of higher social standing experienced, and I had no close family left to corroborate my timeline. 

With some effort, Arator turned to face me then, slipping his arm around me as mine stayed around him. “I don’t believe you,” he said, inspecting my face. “Unless you’re using some sort of magic to retain your youth. Like a dragon enchantment. What?” This last, because it hit me that maybe I was experiencing a dragon enchantment of sorts, and my expression must have shown it.

Kalec, damn him. Kalec, who could have found me if he’d tried, who hadn’t even told his best human friend that we were lovers. Kalec, whose memory kept me from loving this boy in my arms the way he deserved. And now my mind was trying to comb all the catalogued memories of the books I had read in the Dalaran library, trying to remember a mention of dragons prolonging life in lesser races. 

“They say that’s why Khadgar looks younger now than he did twenty years ago. But I don’t know, all we had to see of him for twenty years was a statue in Stormwind. Maybe he didn’t really look that old when he went through the Dark Portal. Or maybe time flows differently in Outland. I didn’t notice, but I was back and forth all the time.” He paused, and seemed to realized I hadn’t answered him. “Are you alright?” he asked.

I didn’t know what to say. I did what I had done before when my voice failed me, and kissed him. When it was over the words came of their own accord.

“It’s Kalec,” I whispered. “My lover is a dragon.” Now I trusted Arator with everything. I hoped my faith was justified.

His eyes widened, and his expression became solemn. “I see.” We stared at each other for a few minutes longer, and then he tucked his head and nestled into my chest. My heart ached as I stroked his head, running my fingers down the long smooth braid of his hair. I didn’t know how to balance my desire for him and my need for Kalec. I didn’t know how I could love the one without losing the other, but the only way forward seemed to be to try. Yet I feared I had just forfeited my chances by telling the one about the other. 

And as afternoon turned to evening, and dusk to dark, it felt as though he had drifted from me. He was quiet at dinner, and could not be goaded into laughter in the social hour afterwards, no matter how absurd of a spectacle Chu made of himself. Arator was somewhere distant, and I could do nothing but watch helplessly.

Finally, as I followed him up the stairs to our cabin, the velvet of the night sky stretching above us, I could bear it no longer.

“Arator,” I said, my voice barely above a whisper. I was taking a risk using his name, but I knew it would get his attention, and more, I wanted to say it aloud. I was right. He turned to face me, his hand resting on the handle of the louvered door. “I love him, but I care for you too. I don’t know how, or why, but I need you, your kindness, in my life right now.”

“What about what I need?” he asked, his voice hoarse with emotion.

“What do you need? What can I give you?”

“Show me you mean what you say. Stop turning away when I offer you everything I have to give. Be there for me when I need you.”

My breath came heavily, and I could feel the adrenaline rising in my system. I was afraid of being vulnerable, but I wanted desperately to be open. “I want to show you. Tell me how.”

In the starlight I could see his hand slip from the door. He used it to pull my face within inches of his. “Make love to me,” he whispered, and his lips were against mine before I could waste time with any more words.

Arator wanted to give me control, and for the first time in quite a long time, I found myself wanting to take it. Soon we were tangled up together on his bed, kissing frantically, all the passion we had restrained for so long breaking loose. 

I yanked off my shirt, and pulled his off over his head. His skin was so warm against mine, and it surprised me, as though I had expected him to be made of marble. I couldn't stop running my hands over his body, tracing the muscles that were clearly defined beneath the skin. We kissed until our lips were raw and we kissed some more, our bodies pressed together as though we could somehow become one if we tried hard enough. I felt his hands slide up and down my back, alternately gripping my shoulders and my waist with those long, agile fingers I had admired as we worked together.

At last I could bear it no longer, and I unbuttoned his trousers so forcefully one of the buttons came off in my hand. It reminded me to be careful as I pulled them down his legs, to avoid hurting him and putting an abrupt end to our pleasure. And then there before me, outlined in the starlight that came through the open shutters, was the long, lean body I had admired as I watched Arator swim, only this time I could touch it. And this time, I could see his response to my touch.

Suddenly I didn’t want to rush. I could feel my heart thumping, feel my erection grinding against my trousers, but I needed to discover this body, and the man within it. I wanted to drive him mad with the same fire I felt, and that would take a slow build. I lay alongside him, holding his right hand up and over his head as I leaned over him and kissed his neck, his clavicle, the dip where his ribs ended and plunged to his abdomen. I continued along that side of his body, keeping his hand in mine, bringing it with me, as I nuzzled the inside of his hip, the inside of his thigh. I lifted his leg and kissed the inside of his knee, tasting the sea salt that lingered there, kissed his ankle, the arch of his foot. He was beautiful. I wanted him to know I saw it all, craved the knowledge of it all. 

He was moaning, and I felt him move. I looked up and he was lightly stroking himself, keeping his erect cock as long and firm as the rest of him. He felt me watching him, and his eyes opened halfway. I could see the gleam of them in the dim light, see his lips part. It thrilled me to watch, but he was doing for himself what I should have been doing for him. I rolled over to lie between his thighs and captured his slender wrists, pinning them above his head.

“That’s  _ my _ job,” I said. With my free hand, I trailed a faint line down his side, eliciting more moans and causing him to wriggle beneath me. I shifted slightly to give my hand the room, and slowly, gently, I caressed his shaft, from base to tip and back again. Arator sighed raggedly. I was pushing him to the limits of his endurance. I felt him flex in my hand, the blood vessels engorged and pounding. Before he went over the edge, I released his cock to fall back to his heaving abdomen.

Finally I began to unbutton my own trousers. Keeping his hands pinned above his head, I maneuvered them down to my ankles and then kicked them off. I could see him watching me, and I rolled back on top of him and held my face above his. I could see the pleasure written there. I moved slightly, rubbing my prick against his, and smiled as his eyelids fluttered and a muffled moan escaped him. My own desire was a raging fire, but the power of being able to stimulate these feelings in Arator made me high.

I drove my mouth down on his, bruising his lips and mine, and his jaw opened beneath me, allowing me entry to the fiery depths of his mouth. I thrust my tongue in and rubbed it against his, pushing, demanding everything. He gave, he accepted, he offered me more. I was not accustomed to feeling like this. With Kalec I was always the submissive one, wanting to please, to be used, more than to be pleased or to use, though Kalec always ensured I found release.

When my thirst for Arator’s mouth lessened, I pulled back a few inches, carefully trying to read his face in the darkness.

“Do you like this?” I asked, my voice hoarse. “Do you want this?”

“Dai,” he whispered. “I want this. I want you. Take me and make me yours. Take me to heaven or hell, I don’t care. If it’s with you, I don’t care.”

I kissed him again, more tenderly this time, delicately running my tongue along the surface of his teeth, stroking the insides of his cheeks, nibbling his lower lip. And then I remembered more of the things that Kalec did that made me wild, and I wanted to do them all for Arator. I pulled away, and released his wrists. 

“Roll over,” I ordered him, surprised at how gruff I sounded. He complied immediately, and offered his wrists up for me to pin them against his back. I pulled them together snugly, enough to make him feel like he couldn’t move but not so much I would cause pain unless he struggled. I pushed his thighs apart, making him stretch, and with one finger I traced down along the base of his spine, grinning as he shivered, following the line down between his small but firm buttocks, circling the orifice that would soon become the focus of all of our attention, and finishing up by wrapping my warm hand around his dangling testicles and squeezing gently. Again he moaned, and I decided to continue to hold them for a while longer, as my mouth began to water.

My cock throbbed, knowing that soon it would be time...but not yet! There were other pleasures to share first. I licked my bruised lips, and then buried my face between his cheeks. I knew my beard would be bristly, and would torment his nerve endings, and I delighted in it. My tongue went alternately firm and soft as it licked up and down the crevice, avoiding the most tender spot until Arator’s gasps of astonishment and ecstasy faded slightly. Then I gripped his wrists more tightly, and squeezed his sack more firmly, and as he groaned, I pressed my face further in and began to tease and torment the portal that would lead us both to climax. His response reached even greater heights. 

There was a spell Kalec had used on me, one that made the room swirl with cascades of stardust, and carried me higher on the waves of rapture than I had ever been. I hadn’t realized I knew the spell but I instinctively pictured the runes in my mind and they came into being over both of us, and the world was full of the magic of our passion. I dove into Arator’s hole with my tongue, as deeply as I could go, and swirled it around until he cried out with pleasure. I had a strange sensation, like deja vu, that I was in dragon form, my wings stretched out above us, my long dragon’s tongue plunged deep within Arator’s body. I felt his back arch beneath me, and the dragon images vanished. But now I could no longer ignore my needs. I had to be inside him. I caressed his testicles again, and gave them one last squeeze, and licked one last time from the bottom of his crack to the top, before I rose up, dragging my sensitized prick along the same path my tongue had so recently taken.

Arator shivered again. It was so delicious to torment him. I took one of his cheeks in my free hand and crushed it, turning it dark in the starlight. Then I stroked myself a few times, tapping his orifice with the tip of my rigid dick, and smiled again as he moaned in anticipation. I had left it wet and slippery, and it seemed so natural to just slip myself in…

And it was like my entire body was run through with electricity. After a few slow and gentle thrusts, I was no longer sure if I was holding Arator’s wrists down to restrain him or holding on to them to keep myself from floating away. I moved them up over his head so I could lie on top of him, kissing his neck as I did so, and then, placing my free hand at his side to brace myself, I began the rhythmic movement that would take us beyond the stars. 

With all the build-up, I was soon at the point where the whole world fell away and my body had one singular goal. But I wanted one more thing before I let go. In one motion I lifted myself, released my restraints on my lover and slipped out of his body, and turned him to face me. I wanted to see him when I reached climax. I wanted him to see me.

As he watched, I pushed his thigh up, and reentered him. He moaned again as I slipped deeper inside. He lifted his hands to my face as I leaned over him, the rhythm building again, picking up pace, gathering in intensity. He ran his fingers down my neck and across my chest, combing through the curls of my chest hair. They finally found a home on my hips, where he helped guide my thrusts.

It was Arator’s participation that brought me the last mile, squeezing and tugging at me, and pulling my body into his with a force that I had been afraid to use, even with the spell of delirium to counteract the potential pain.

I felt my face flush. I was going to come, and I was going to come hard. “Arator…”

“Dai,” he replied, between rough breaths, “I belong to you.” And I plunged deep down into his body as the spasms rocked my own. I grunted and groaned. I had thought I was high before, but now my whole body was humming.

Arator moved to pull me down next to him as I slid out of him and let his leg relax, but I wasn’t done. I had promised myself to treat him as well as Kalec had ever treated me, and so I would see my blond-haired boy to his release before I was through.

His cock was no longer as rigid as it had been earlier, but it was still firm, and when I lifted it and gave it a few strokes, it sprang back to life. I stretched out between his legs and gave his shaft a few more firm caresses. His body bucked reflexively when I bumped the super-sensitive head, and again when I took it into my mouth and circled it with my tongue. I took him as far as I could into my throat, but he was long, so I held the base of the shaft with my full hand, and slid my mouth up and down his cock as he grew harder and harder, and his moans grew louder. I tasted the first drops of his ejaculate, and I sucked it out of him. His fingers found their way into my hair, and I let him push me down onto him, let him push himself up into me, until at last I could take all of him into my throat without choking. He rode me hard for a few moments longer, until I found his balls in the palm of my hand again, and massaged them. He pulled my head back until the head of his cock rested on my tongue, and paused.

“Now,” he whispered, offering me the decision of where he was to come. I responded by pushing my head back down on his prick, feeling it pulse inside my mouth as he exploded. He cried out, though not loudly, in his rapture, and I was charmed.

When the tremors had ceased, we lay in each other’s arms, spent and euphoric.

“Dai,” Arator said, in the most tender tone of voice I had ever heard him use, “I would never have imagined that.”

I couldn’t help but laugh a little. “Was it that special? I haven’t had much experience myself.” I squeezed his body gently.

“I haven’t either,” he replied, surprising me. He was so good-looking and amiable, it was hard to believe that he would have lacked the opportunity. “I wish I’d been more adventurous sooner, if that’s what I was missing. The emotional connection, I mean, and the trust.” Now I understood. I had struggled with that too, in the encounters I could remember, the ones before Kalec.

The breeze through our bungalow had turned cool in the early hours, and we snuggled closer together as sleep descended upon us.

***

We didn’t get a lot of sleep for the next several nights, for obvious reasons. Our free mornings found us sleeping late, and our free afternoons were spent in the hammock if the weather permitted. It wasn’t a week before the we had our first dose of autumn weather, though, with two days of unremitting leaden skies and intermittent drizzle, and I suspected the hammock would get little further use.

Nat was surprisingly enthusiastic about the weather. Apparently the cooler weather would bring in schools of fish that normally avoided the warmer shallows during the summer heat. On the first rainy day, the stores were opened and wet weather gear was distributed among the Anglers, including Arator and myself. Everyone got a chance to test their gear on the second day, when we were all out in the bay as the night faded into a dim gray of a rainy morning. 

The predictions were correct, though. The longer, cooler nights had brought the water temperature down slightly, and the rain cooled the surface and brought the fish up to be easily caught by hook or net. We brought in the biggest single-day hauls I had seen since we’d been in Pandaria.

The weather continued cool and mostly cloudy for the next few days, and we pushed hard to catch as much as we could of the schools returning to eat the summer-fattened prey. Arator and I were now too tired from the work to spend much time in night-time frolics, but we sustained ourselves during the long days with casual contact, lingering glances, and quiet smiles. No one said a word when we began sitting closer together during the evening social time, me with my arm draped over Arator’s shoulders, or Arator sitting on the floor leaning back against my knees, or even when we held hands across the gap between our chairs. The village was such a comfortable place for me, even when I wore myself out for it.

We were out before dawn in the mist, the gentle swells of a quiet bay lapping against the hull of our rowboat. The mist seemed to muffle and amplify sound all at once. I could hear the voice of another fisherman, probably a hundred yards away, and he sounded like he was sitting next to me, yet I couldn’t make out his words. I felt oddly disoriented, and even the brightening of the sky with the dawn did not help.

We stayed out three hours past dawn, until the tide began to turn, and caught our share of rockfish easily, and large, fat ones, too. The mist had begun to fade, and the day proved to be clear and cool for the subtropics, one of those brilliant autumn days everyone always dreams about. But even the warmth of the direct sun couldn’t seem to displace the mist’s chill from my bones, or the dizziness from my head.

Arator took my oar from me when I couldn’t maintain a steady rhythm on our return trip to Anglers’ Wharf. “You look completely exhausted,” he said. “Just rest, and I will get us home.” By the time we pulled up dockside, I was shivering. I couldn’t understand why, because it wasn’t cold, not by my standards. Even midsummer in Northrend was colder than this.

It was when Arator gave me the usual hand up out of the boat that he noticed something was wrong. “Dan, you’re not looking well at all.” He touched my face with a hand that was wonderfully cool. “You’re on fire. We need to get you to bed, and I’ll see about getting you some hot tea.” He left the rowboat tied up and hustled me to our little ferry raft.

But before he could push off, Nat stopped him. “What’s this? Not well?” He looked me over and nodded. “Indeed, I know a fever when I see one. Glassy eyes, pale skin, trembling. Get back up here and come up to my bungalow. It’s drier and more comfortable than your little cabin, and closer to the kitchen too. You’ll be well looked after. And don't worry about me, I will be just fine bunking up with John.”

I climbed awkwardly back to my feet, as Arator hesitated. I thought I could guess his difficulty. If I was sick, in our cabin, he could use his healing prayers on me with less fear of discovery than he could if I was in the middle of the village. But because it was Nat, offering up his own home for me, it would be awkward to refuse. And even my impaired mind knew that it might give us the opportunity we had been hoping for all along. Time with his library.

Either way, I didn’t care. I just wanted to lie down. So I thanked Nat as he helped me back up on the dock, and followed obediently as he led the way up to his private quarters. Arator scrambled up after us, maintaining his protective demeanor.

The fever must have been intensifying quickly, because even just that short climb up a few ramps had me winded, and I couldn’t quite manage my buttons or sleeves to get undressed and into bed. It seemed to me that several hands unfastened my clothing and got me tucked in, and I subsided into delirium in the smooth linen sheets. People were talking around me, and I could hear the worry in Arator’s voice, but it all drifted away as I fell asleep.

I was awakened by the hands returning, touching my shoulder. Arator. He had a cup in his hand, and I struggled to sit up for it. I wasn’t completely helpless, thankfully.

“It’s medicinal tea,” he told me. “It smells nice, so hopefully it won’t taste terrible.” He watched to make sure I was steady enough to hold it myself, and when he was assured that I was, he spoke again, more softly, as I drank my tea. “If Nat hadn’t seen you ill, I would have been able to heal you, but now I’m afraid to. Be assured that I won’t let you take a turn for the worse, though. I will stay with you. I will find a way.” As he took the empty cup from me, he touched my cheek, and I felt the warm tingle of the Light in his fingertips. My body eased, and I slid back down under the covers.

“Rest now,” he told me. “You need it.”

I slept, and when I woke again, it was dark, except for an oil lamp turned down low. Arator was in a chair near the bed, slumped over in an uncomfortable position, asleep, with a book open in his hand. The light from the lamp turned his braided hair bronze where it dangled over the back of the chair. I wanted to wake him, to tell him to find somewhere more comfortable to take his rest, but my body ached and my head spun and I had no energy to move.

Then out of the shadows a form coalesced, moving towards us around the screen that divided the sleeping area from the living area. It was Nat. He brought a blanket with him, and he draped it around Arator, and carefully removed the book, marking Arator’s place with something I didn’t quite see before setting it on the chest by the bed. Then he stepped over to the bedside.

“Ah, awake, I see. How’s the sickness?” He spoke quietly to avoid waking my protector, and lightly touched my forehead. “Yes, still a bit warm. Body ache yet?”

I nodded.

“Well that’s progress at least, and I see you haven’t been sick in the bucket.” He was peering into something I couldn’t see on the floor next to the bed. A bucket, I assumed. “That may be yet to come, or perhaps you’ll be lucky and give it a miss.”

I hadn’t even thought about being nauseous, but now that he mentioned it...I sat up, trying to find the bucket. Nat got it up to me just in time. My violent retching woke Arator, who fetched a damp cloth he’d had ready to wipe my face. I hadn’t eaten solid food in some hours, so my heaves were in the most unproductive, and I was glad, but my throat still burned and my face was hot. It exhausted me. I rinsed my mouth with the water Arator gave me, and spit in the bucket before they took it away. 

Then I collapsed back on the pillows, sweaty and shivering at the same time. I couldn’t remember the last time I was this ill, and I wondered if it would be the end for me. My eyes burned with tears as I contemplated dying without seeing Kalec again. It would be a cruel fate.

But Arator had promised he would keep me safe, if he couldn’t heal me outright. And here he was at my side again, with a fresh, cooled cup of tea. He helped me take a few small sips from it before he set it aside. “They said it would help with the nausea,” he told me, “but no sense in overwhelming your stomach.” He pulled the covers up and took my hand in his. I could see his lips move, but he did not speak aloud. I felt my body relax slightly as his prayer took effect. Perhaps I would survive this fever after all, I thought. And soon I was once more asleep.

My dreams were wild, senseless things that I would not be able to explain to anyone if had been able to remember them, aside from the fact that something seemed to be chasing me and I was fleeing. I would wake more exhausted than I had been before sleeping, and remain awake only long enough to relieve myself or be sick into the bucket, or both, and to drink some tea or broth, and then I was out to the world once more.

At last I woke up with a clearer head. I’d no idea how many days I had been ill, but there was now a pile of books on the chest beside the bed, and daylight peeked in through the louvered window shutters. I could hear footsteps in the other half of the bungalow, and then Arator came around the screen towards the bed. His face brightened when he saw I was awake.

“You look alive again! And I have good news, too.” He smiled broadly. “I think I found the reference we came for, in this chapter on the Plaguelands.” He picked up a small book, just the size to fit in a large pocket, and opened it to a page he had marked. He read me a passage that spoke of the Thondroril River and a legend of a dark star falling from the sky into the river, and rumors that this either had cursed Lordaeron and brought about its downfall or it had promised redemption and renewal of the land after the plague’s corruption. Then Arator explained to me the story of the creation of the Ashbringer, and how it had been forged by the King Magni Bronzebeard himself from a shard of what was also described as a “dark star”, and I had to agree that this sounded related.

Before any more could be said, the door opened and Nat peeked around the screen. “Oh, you’re looking much better. How do you feel?”

“Wrung out, but at least the room isn’t spinning anymore,” I replied.

“Good, good. Now we’ll just have to feed you some of our famous restorative chowder and you’ll be on your feet in no time.” He grinned. Nothing ever really seemed to bother Nat. I wasn’t sure if it was an act or if he was really just that affable, but in all the weeks we’d been here, I’d never seen the mask slip, so perhaps it was really just who he was. He vanished behind the screen again, presumably to round up some of the chowder.

Arator and I looked at each other. “He’s been very good to you, to us, while you were ill,” he said. “He told me straight out that I didn’t need to worry about working for our keep, that I was free to look after you, or if I didn’t feel like I was up to it, that he would do so. He’s been very kind, and checked in on you often.”

“How long has it been?” I asked.

“Six days since you came down with the fever.”

Six days! So much time lost. I knew I was lucky, that some that took the fever did not even begin to recover for two weeks or more, if they recovered at all. I suspected that a great deal of that luck was sitting in the chair next to the bed.

“Thank you for taking care of me,” I said. “And keeping me from harm. I remember feeling like I would die, and then you touched me and I was calmed.”

“I could do little else and live with myself,” he said. “It is part of who I am.”

And then Nat returned with a tray, and pillows were arranged so that I could sit up and eat. I couldn’t eat much, and even then I mostly just took the broth, but I never tasted a fish chowder that was so delicious. When it was clear I would eat no more, Nat sent Arator with the tray back to the kitchen, and told him to get some food for himself.

Nat took the chair, and leaned forward on his knees. “I just wanted to tell you, friend, that you can trust me.”

I blinked, not quite sure where this came from. “I do, Nat.”

“Good,” he answered. He may have seen my confused look, because he continued. “There was one time when your boy had to step out for a bit, and I stayed with you, and you woke up delirious, berating me as though I were someone else, and pleading for mercy. I just wanted you to know that it doesn’t matter to me why you were sent away, because you have only acted with honor and character during your stay here.”

“Who...what sort of thing did I say?” How much did I reveal? My head was still fuzzy and I was feeling a bit of panic.

“Oh, something about how you should have had a chance to say goodbye before you left, that you wanted to see, er, a certain someone because you were ill and it might be your last chance.” Nat patted my knee through the blankets. “It’s going to be alright, you’re already recovering. No worries.”

I was glad he was calm, because I wasn’t. “A certain someone? I said his name?” 

“You said, um, two names, very significant names, known even to the likes of me. But whether you were exiled from a tiny village or from a famous city of wizards, it makes no nevermind. You’re a good man, Dan, everyone here will vouch for that.” He paused. “My only concern is the boy. Does he know about...the situation?”

That I could be sure of, and say with relief, “Yes, he is aware of everything. I have kept no secrets from him.”

“Good,” Nat said, nodding. “Good. He’s a fine young man, stayed with you almost every moment, held your hand, mopped your brow. Reminds me of someone, but I can’t quite place who. Anyhow, I’ll let you get some rest. And I told Arin, if either of you need reading material, feel free to make use of my library. I can see he’s already been busy.” He smiled and winked, then got up and left me to my thoughts.

I could almost recall begging Khadgar to let me see Kalec, but it seemed like a half-remembered dream. I must have done it out loud, thinking Nat was Khadgar. I sighed. Never quite in control of myself, was I? I rearranged the pillows again, and settled down for a nap. We had found what we were looking for in Nat’s library, so now all that kept us from going home was my health. I’d better get myself back in working order straight away.

But before I could start my recuperation in earnest, Arator burst in once more. “We’ve got a letter,” he said, breathless. “It says we’re to return at our earliest convenience.” He handed it to me.

I unfolded it, and recognized Khadgar’s hand at once. He kept to the story he had fabricated for us, and using that framework, he let us know that our presence would be useful at home once more. It was almost as though he had known we had found that for which we had been sent, in much the same way that he had known when I was awake in his study, and had predicted the very moment that Arator would join us there.

Only it didn’t seem that he had predicted I would be ill. Or perhaps he had, I thought, rereading the line that said “when you find travel amenable.” Either way, I was not strong enough for a days’ long sea journey, especially in the season of autumn storms. It seemed Arator had the answer for this.

“There is a region north of the Valley of the Four Winds where we have a major Alliance base. Linnshi has described the great shrines there for me, and tells me there are ways of traveling directly from there to places all over the world without spending more than a few moments. Portals, I assume. If we could get there before the weather turns, it would be faster and easier than aboard ship.”

“That sounds promising. I just need to recover enough to make the trip.” I grimaced slightly. I had no idea how long it would take until I was strong enough.

My companion was not troubled. “I can see to that,” he said, and taking my hand, he whispered a little prayer. Once again I could feel the healing Light soak into me, mending me.

“Do the research,” I told him. “Even a week overland would probably be safer than the same by sea.”

Arator nodded, and squeezed my hand before releasing it. The last thing I heard as I drifted off to sleep was the door closing quietly behind him.

***

I could not remember ever having so much trouble saying farewell to friends as I had with Nat and John, and all the Anglers. Even Fiznix’s gruff goodbye and admonition to not forget his name were I ever to be visiting a goblin resort was difficult to bear, if simultaneously amusing. If they were surprised at how quickly I recovered from my illness, they said nothing, only gave me their best wishes for a safe journey and reminded me that I was welcome to visit anytime. 

Arator appeared to be equally as moved, sharing hugs with Chu and Sully, and Linnshi, and even the little ones. Once more he had flowers in his hair. 

We were both pressed with little packages, treats and mementos to take home, until John laughingly reminded everyone that we would have to carry everything ourselves. At least, we would until we made it as far as Halfhill Village and could hire transport. 

“Friends,” said Nat, “I am very glad to have made your acquaintance, and to have fished with you both. I do hope we meet up again somewhere, in this lifetime. I’m sure we have many more rare and unusual fish to discover. And many more stories to share.” He surprised me by embracing each of us. John took my hand into his much larger one to shake it, and then he seemed to change his mind and pulled me in for a hug too. It seemed my sense of finding my place here had been a true one. I hoped I could find a way to return one day without uproar over my deception, but I wasn't sure that such a thing could be achieved. It was a bittersweet thought. 

At last it was time that we hefted our packs and made our way into the semi-tropical forest that stood between us and the lush farmland of the Valley of the Four Winds. I looked up at the tiny cabin on stilts that Arator and I had shared for so many weeks, and at the net hammock that dangled forlornly from the trees below, as if I stared hard enough, I could take them with me. 

“Dan,” said Arator, his voice kind. I pulled my eyes away from the things I was leaving behind and met his gaze. He smiled at me, then turned and led the way down the northern path. I could do little else but follow. 

After three days, one of which had consisted of a rather intimidating climb along a very narrow path up what seemed to be an otherwise sheer cliff face, we reached Halfhill Village. We found we were just in time to catch a lift on an itinerant hot air balloon making its last trip of the season around Pandaria. This adjustment to our trip saved us days getting across the mountains with pack goats, and afforded me some much appreciated rest. 

Arator had been diligent about monitoring my health, and had done his best to use his skills to keep me functioning, even though healing was not his particular specialty as a paladin. Now that we were no longer amongst the Anglers, he had no need to hide his abilities, though he struggled, as I did, to match the potency he normally would have been capable of with the powerful tools and equipment we’d been forced to leave in Dalaran. If I had been carrying Aluneth at my side, I would have had the resources to open a dimensional rift that would have taken us directly home. 

As the balloon touched down softly on the meadow before the Shrine of the Seven Stars, I did not regret the extra time spent traveling. It was giving me a chance to put space between my experience in Krasarang and my life in Dalaran. And there were things that I knew Arator and I needed to discuss before we returned. 

He brought it up as we prepared to walk the last half mile to the Shrine, before I even had a chance to formulate the words. 

“Dai,” he said, “I’ve been doing a lot of thinking the last few days.” 

“Have you? I mean, of course you have. I could tell.” I was suddenly nervous. Was he about to say just what I wanted to say, or was he going to give me an impossible choice? Or was there a third option? 

He smiled at my typical discombobulation. Then he reached out and put his hand on my arm. “I've cared for you in ways I never expected, and with you I have experienced things that I never dreamed of, but we’re going back to a world at war. And if everything I have been hearing about the Army of the Light is true, I could be meeting my family sooner than I ever imagined. I just, well… I’m not sure I will have the time or energy to share the kind of relationship with you that we were able to have here. It's probably better that we have no expectations of continuing it.” A look of immeasurable sadness crossed his face, and my heart broke to see it. 

I would have told him very nearly the same thing had I been the one to speak first, but I was almost glad he had come to the same conclusion independently. “You’re quite right,” I said. “I never meant for it to happen, but I am glad that it has, and I feel that I am better for having known and cared for you as I did.” I took his hand and squeezed it. “And if you ever need a friend, you can find me. Someone in Dalaran will always know where I am.”

The sadness faded slightly. “Thank you,” he replied. “That means a lot to me.” He looked at me for a moment, and then leaned over to kiss my cheek. Then his hand slipped out of mine, and he composed his face. “Ready?” he asked, indicating the enormous building ahead with a tilt of his golden head. 

I nodded, and let him lead the way to the Shrine. 

A graceful pandaren in a long silken dress greeted us as we stepped into through an ornate doorway. 

“Archmage, welcome. You are expected.” She tilted her head first at me and then at Arator. 

Baffled, I replied without thinking, “I am? We are?” 

She inclined her head towards the archway that led into the center of the building. I followed the line of her gaze and there, walking towards us was a familiar figure indeed. I knew it as well as I knew my own. 

“Kalec!” I breathed. He saw us standing there and he brightened immediately, and moved quickly to join us. 

“Dai!” he said, embracing me as best he could around the pack I still carried. He didn't linger, but released me to greet Arator warmly before turning back to me. His violet eyes sparkled and joy was plainly written across his face. “Did you need to rest or would you like to return home straight away? I can open a portal for us. Or we can stay here for the night, if you would like.”

I couldn't even remember what my own bed felt like, but I had a feeling that I would enjoy it. And more importantly, I sensed that Arator would as soon go straight back to Dalaran. 

“I am sure the accommodations here are quite nice,” I said for the benefit of the pandaren hostess, who was quite possibly the innkeeper. “But I think going straight home would be preferable. What do you think, Arator?”

He was quick to agree with me. “Yes, I would really like to report back as soon as possible, and catch up on what's happened while we’ve been away.”

Kalec smiled. “Of course. Let's just step back outside where we can get some free space.”

***

Twilight was descending on Dalaran when we arrived. It was always my favorite time of day in the city, when the sky matched the spires and the golden streetlights twinkled on one by one in the wake of the diminutive Windle Sparkshine. Today was different somehow. The city was much the same, but I felt changed. The fatigue I had felt when I was climbing the stair to the Shrine had vanished. I was nervous in the way that I always was when I had to present myself and the results of a mission, and nervous at Kalec’s side, but there was something in me that at last knew what it felt like to belong. It was an anchor against the anxiety.

The three of us went straight down into the Chamber of the Guardian, where Khadgar had his study. Kalec had offered to find porters to take our gear, but since Khadgar had provided it, Arator and I agreed we should return with it before assuming it was ours to keep.

As usual, Khadgar appeared to anticipate our arrival. He had a cheese platter and an insulated flask of hot cider waiting, and not the conjured variety. “Ah! You’re here. Very good. Please, relieve yourself of your baggage and make yourselves comfortable. Have some snacks, if you like.” As we divested ourselves of our packs, I noticed a look pass between Khadgar and Kalec. It was complex, indecipherable. I wondered if I would ever understand their connection. I poured myself a mug of cider and resigned myself to the mystery.

Kalec sat next to me on the sofa that had been my makeshift bed so many weeks before. Khadgar and Arator each took a chair. Eager to please, as always, Arator immediately began telling Khadgar of the success of the assignment, and recited word for word the passage from Nat’s fishing guide.

“Good work, gentlemen. I knew you could manage it. I’m sorry one of you had to get ill to actually access the information we wanted, but I’m glad to see no serious harm was done.” He smiled at me. “And it sounds as though you’ve made strong allies, too. Nat Pagle has a rather mysterious past, but I suspect that he has great character and I cannot help but think that having him as a good friend is a powerful asset.” 

I had to concur, if for no other reason than the fact that Nat’s acceptance of me made me feel more whole and confident in myself. “I’m inclined to agree,” I said.

Khadgar looked at each of us briefly in turn, and then got up and went to his work table. He wrote something on a slip of paper, folded it, and then came back to hand it to Arator.

“Take that to the Highlord,” he instructed. “She will be in her quarters at this hour.” 

Arator rose, and inclined his head. “Yes, sir.” He turned and headed towards the door. Before he slipped out, Khadgar spoke to him once more.

“Good work, Arator. And when you return, we have other things to discuss.” 

The young man’s eyes brightened, and I thought I knew what he was anticipating. Then he vanished, and the door closed once more.

“Daiedan, I must apologize.” Khadgar’s voice became a shade more somber. “I did not realize you were in such close association with my friend here, and I made a number of assumptions and unilateral decisions that affected you both. I am very sorry for the hardship I have caused. I should have been more considerate and more measured in my actions.”

I was nothing short of astonished to receive such a heartfelt apology from a man of such stature. “Thank you,” I replied, a bit uncertain how to respond. “I am sure you were acting on your best instincts. I don’t expect it will cause any lasting harm.” I said these last words without quite believing them. After all that had happened in Krasarang, especially between myself and Arator, I did not have faith that my relationship with Kalec would not be damaged. 

But Khadgar and Kalec both accepted the situation as resolved, and conversation turned to the disposition of the expedition gear, and tying up the loose ends that came at the finish of every assignment. I was collecting my tackle box and the herb samples Arator had gathered for me, and the gifts I had been given by the Anglers, preparing to return to my rooms, when the tap came at the door, and the two paladins entered.

Kalec and I were free to go as Khadgar’s attention turned to Arator and the Highlord. Arator and I paused in passing, and I reached out my hand. He grasped it as his eyes met mine. We said nothing, but perhaps our handshake lasted a moment longer than was usual. Then it was over, and I was closing the door behind me.

***

“Do you expect me to be angry with you?” Kalec asked.

I don’t know where I found the strength, but I had told him about what I had done with Arator. He had taken me back to his chambers in the Violet Citadel, and I could not in good conscience share any intimacy with him without telling him what happened. Now I felt an odd sense of freedom, because I had told him the worst thing and nothing else could come close. But his response was not what I had anticipated.

“I think I did expect that, yes. It only took six weeks away from you to lose my self-restraint. I would be angry with me.”

“And I think perhaps you are.” He was so unruffled. “Purity and fidelity as aspirational values are deeply intertwined in human culture, and humans tend to assume it is so with other cultures as well. Along with that, you assume that your feelings towards yourselves are the same as the feelings others have towards you.”

Admittedly, I lacked perspective. I had dodged so many interpersonal connections in my lifetime because of my uneasiness with this sort of situation. Now I was finding it difficult to breathe. I no longer felt free.

He noticed my discomfort and reached out to me. I wanted to pull away in shame, but he was so gentle that I could not. He pulled me over to sit on the couch, and moved a chair over so he could sit close in front of me. He leaned in towards me, holding my hands.

“One of the things I love about humans,” Kalec began, “Is that you burn so brightly. Your lives are so short that you live with great passion, and that leads to great valor and fierce love, to courage and loyalty. I know you. I’ve known you for years. Part of my concern for you has been that you have cut yourself off from that fire, and part of my love for you is seeing the flame flicker within, dampened but not dead. It has been growing steadily brighter since our time in Azsuna, and now you tell me that you allowed yourself to submit to physical passion, to share in affection with one to whom you are not beholden, and you expect me to be angry that at last your spark has become a wildfire?” He was smiling at me. I didn’t understand what was happening. 

“I thought you would be jealous.” My head was spinning. 

He laughed. “I am jealous. I would have liked that awakening to happen in my arms, not in the arms of another. But can’t you see, Dai? You’re alive again. You’re capable of sharing with others, not locked away inside yourself. And even if you choose not to share yourself with me, I know you will have the capacity to love others.”

“But I do love you!” My hands tightened on his. “That was what started the whole thing. Every time I looked at him I thought of you, and both Arator and the Anglers took it to mean I was infatuated with him, to the point where we thought we should use that assumption to bolster our credibility. It led to me actually becoming infatuated. And then, when I understood how much he needed someone to love him, I could not withdraw and let him suffer.” I swallowed the lump in my throat. “I did enjoy it, and I do feel guilty. But I also think I was there for Arator in an uncertain time, a time that has now passed.”

I could breathe again. Somewhere, in explaining to Kalec, I clarified something in myself as well. I still felt like I had cheated, but I felt like it had been a kindness in a way, and I did not hate myself so much for it. And I was almost ready to be with Kalec again. I wasn’t quite sure what I was missing. There was a key somewhere that would unlock that last part of me and I would relax again in his arms. I would have to find it.

He watched my face as I experienced these revelations. “I am glad,” he responded. “For all of those things.” He smiled softly, then leaned in and touched his lips to mine so lightly there was almost no discernable contact, aside from the lightning bolt that traveled through my body. “Why don’t you get cleaned up? We’ll have dinner, and talk of the world for a while, and enjoy the evening.”

I agreed, and excused myself to enjoy the glories of Dalaran plumbing and laundry services. And then Kalec surprised me by suggesting dinner at the Legerdemain, rather than a private meal in his rooms. Another one of my doubts was laid to rest as he held my hand in view of anyone walking down the street. He wasn’t trying to hide me away like a dirty secret. 

We ate a meal in the pleasant ambiance of the Kirin Tor’s favored inn, and though I can’t remember the food, I know it was good, and the wine was even better. As much as I had imbibed of Nat’s ale and John’s rum, I still preferred a good Dalaran red and the sparkle it added to everything. Kalec caught me up on all the happenings in the Broken Isles, and the latest public knowledge in the campaign against the Legion, and through it all I was like a schoolboy in love. I think, in a way, he was too. The fact that we were in plain view of anyone who cared to look just added to the thrill. It made me feel powerful again, though I was still a little uncertain what things would be like between us once we were alone together again.

As soon as the doors were closed behind us with the privacy wards in place, Kalec pushed me against them and kissed me as though he had been burning for it all evening. I wondered if the wine had affected him more than usual.

“You are so alive,” he breathed when we parted at last. He gazed into my eyes in the way that always made my knees go weak. “Do you want me to justify your guilt? To show you my jealousy? To be angry with you?” There was something dark in his voice, but it clicked with me. Yes, that was exactly what I wanted. I wanted him to show me exactly how much he desired me, and how it made him feel that I had strayed. I wanted to pay for my transgressions.

“Yes,” I whispered. “Show me.” I remembered how Arator had said almost the same words to me. I felt my appetite for Kalec intensify. I reached out for him, to pull him back against me, but I was slammed against the door by an unseen force. 

He stood inches from me, his eyes burning, every line of his face clear to me even in the dim light of the room. “You will move when I allow it. You will act when I command it.” I wanted so much to feel his touch, and his denial of it only made me want it more. He spoke again, more quietly, leaning in so his lips nearly touched my ear. “If it becomes too much, at any time, tell me. Say ‘murloc’ to me and I will stop. Do you understand? You may answer.”

“Yes,” I whispered again. I could feel his breath on my neck, smell his skin. His sapphire hair brushed my cheek. I knew he was feeling the same things of me. He stepped away, and the fire in his eyes had not diminished.

“You’re mine,” he said, his resonant half-elven voice taking on a shade of the gravelly sound of his draconic voice. Never breaking his gaze, he idly began unbuttoning my shirt with one hand. My breath came faster. I still could not move my limbs or my head, I could only passively accept what he chose to give me. Soon my clothing was all hanging loose or had fallen to the floor. My arousal was plainly obvious to him but he did not acknowledge it. Abruptly he turned and walked to the center of the room before facing me again. “Take the rest of it off,” he said, and I was free to move again. Hurriedly I removed my shirt and shoes and socks and stepped out of my trousers, pushing everything into a neat pile. My only thought was doing what he wished. If I could please Kalec, I could be absolved.

I stood before him, completely exposed and at his mercy. What would he want next? I saw his fingers twitch, and he cast a spell that laid me flat on the floor, my arms and legs stretched out and once again immobile. He hadn’t hurt me. The swiftness of the motion had made me a little dizzy, but I was not in pain. He walked over to where I lay and stood over me, one foot on either side of my chest. Very slowly he began to undress. I watched as he unfastened one button of his shirt, and then another, and then another, his eyes never straying from my face. He slipped the purple silk shirt off his shoulders and tossed it aside, not bothering to see where it fell. I couldn’t help but look at his bare chest, at the contours of his muscles. I knew his sensitive places and I wanted to touch them, to kiss them, to lick them. I felt my body throb.

“Am I like him?” Kalec asked. “Answer me.”

“No,” I whispered. That seemed to satisfy him, and he slid his fingers along his belt, almost caressing the buckle before unfastening it and slipping the leather strap out of the loops of his leggings. He slid the belt through his fingers before throwing it onto the bed behind him. He ran his thumbs around the waistband of his trousers before he began to unbutton them, knowing that my eyes would be drawn to where his bare skin disappeared into the fabric. Then the first button was open, and the second. My eyes were locked on the movement of his fingers. Now the third button, now the fourth. His hands obscured what lay behind the opening. Now the fifth and final button was open, and his hands parted to push his trousers down over his hips. The familiar tuft of midnight blue curls became visible, and then the prize that lay cushioned there. He left his trousers around his hips, and shifted his weight to one leg. 

“Take off my boot,” he ordered, lifting one foot above me. My arms were released, and I unlaced his boot and pulled it off, letting my fingers brush the smooth skin of his ankle as I did so. I set the boot to one side. He repeated the action for the other foot, and I again used the opportunity to stroke his skin. I knew he felt it, because his lips parted slightly, and there above me, his cock responded.

He removed his leggings then, and he was as naked as I. He stood now with either foot aside my head, and I had a view straight up between his legs. “You may kiss my ankle,” he said. I turned my head and kissed the soft skin of one, and I looked up and saw his cock twitch again. “Now the other.” Every time I saw his body react to touch, I felt mine do the same.

“Am I like him?” he asked again, his voice hoarse.

“No,” I whispered.

“Do you desire me?” he asked.

“Yes.” I replied.

“Do you want to please me?”

“Yes, more than anything.” I was ready to beg to touch him, to give myself up to him for his use. I knew that any pleasure he experienced I would experience too, just because I had given it to him.

Kalec dropped to his knees, straddling my chest again but not in contact with my skin. His cock pulsed over my face and my mouth watered in anticipation, but he did not let me touch it. He lowered himself so that the head was just above my lips but he did not let me move.

“You suffer,” he whispered. “This is how I suffered. I could watch but I could not touch.”

I remembered the rustling in the bushes that had triggered Arator’s sense that we were being watched. Was that Kalec all along? How many years had he kept a watchful eye on me, always being able to find me, no matter where I was? Of course he would be able to find me, even in the wilds of Pandaria. My heart twisted in despair, and I wanted to cry out in anguish, to beg his forgiveness, but he had not permitted me to speak.

He leaned forward, placing his hands on the floor and shifting his knees down towards my hips. The tip of his erect penis brushed my abdomen and I shivered. He was looking down at me, his hair fallen forward to shadow his face so that I could not read it.

“He had his fun. Now it’s my turn,” he said, and bowed his head to kiss me. I felt as though we were both starving and our kiss was the meal spread out before us, but before I could do more than taste, the table was pulled away. I was left gasping as he got to his feet and walked away to the center of the room again, as casually as if he was about to choose a new outfit from his wardrobe. 

“Get up,” he commanded. I stood and waited for his next direction. “On your knees, on the bed. Face me.” I leapt to perform his wishes, then waited patiently. He came and stood in front of me, his dick again just inches from my face. I couldn’t look at anything else. I licked my lips, hoping he would let me taste it.

Then I felt Kalec’s hands in my hair, massaging my head, and I leaned into them. “Do you want it?” he asked.

“Yes,” I moaned. “Please, Kalec.” My lips stayed parted, and my heart pounded in my chest.

He brought his hips a little bit closer, close enough that if I stretched out my tongue...but I didn’t dare, not without permission. “Ask again.”

“Please, Kalec. Please, let me give you pleasure. It’s all I want.”

“Very well,” he replied, and brought my head down so that my open mouth met his shaft. A wave of relief washed over me. He wasn’t going to deny me forever, he wasn’t going to leave me hanging. He didn’t give me any freedom to move on my own, though. It was his body that controlled the motion of sliding in and out of my mouth. I heard him sighing, felt him stiffening as he slid across my tongue. “Do you like that?” he asked, pulling out until the head of his cock rested on my lower lip.

“Yes,” I whispered, my breath kissing his flesh.

I felt rather than saw him smile. His fingers curled in my hair. “Do you want more?”

“Yes.”

“Harder?”

“Yes.”

“Yes what?”

“Yes, please, Kalec.” He was tormenting me again. I wanted him inside me. I trembled with the need for it.

Again he replied, “Very well.” He thrust himself into me, pushing towards my throat. I relaxed every muscle I could control, willed my gag reflex to disengage, opened my throat for him to drive deeper. His fingers were rigid against my scalp as he dove further, faster, harder. He kept going, on and on, and I tasted the fire of the first trailblazing drops of his ejaculate on my tongue. Just as I was beginning to hope he would let me swallow it all, he slowed down, moved more gently, and his hands softened in my hair. I felt one of them leave my scalp, and a moment later felt his fingers between my legs, rubbing and tickling. Then his fingers were inside me, and he shoved his cock deeper into my mouth at the same time, and my back arched as I shook with the intensity of my body’s reaction. My own parts were throbbing, and as I remembered the mild restraints I’d placed on Arator our first time, the ache grew even more fierce.

And then suddenly there was no contact with Kalec at all. He had released me and stepped back, his body glistening with sweat. There were no more commands, he simply used his magic to rearrange me at his whim. Next thing I knew, I was bent over the back of a cushioned chair, my legs spread wide, my arms twisted behind my back. My prick rubbed against the velvet upholstery, sending tiny heavenly shocks through my body. I sensed Kalec stepping up behind me, his fingers inside me again. He used more this time, I couldn’t tell if it was three or four as he twisted them around, driving me mad as he stimulated every nerve ending I possessed. He pulled them out and reached down to squeeze my sack, hard. I moaned in exquisite agony.

Then he pushed himself into me, grasping my neck with one hand, and pulling on my restrained arms with the other. He had never been so forceful with me, not in his half-elven body, and I never would have asked him to be, but this time I needed it so badly. I had to do my penance, had to redeem myself for him. His cock felt larger than I remembered, longer, thicker, and it alternately felt hot and cold. He was grunting as he slammed into me, his voice again taking on the rough timbre of his draconic form. Was he losing control of his form? There wasn’t room in this chamber for him to shift fully, but I could tell his body was trying to do it. At last he seemed to rein it in, and the fingers he shoved in my mouth were still humanoid fingers, if larger, and scaly against my tongue.

“That boy,” he gasped between thrusts, “could never give you this.” He dove all the way in, hesitated, pulled back slowly, nearly all the way out, then dove down even further, his grip tightening on my arms, his other hand slipping down to pull back hard on my shoulder. His body jolted as if he was experiencing electric shocks, and he nearly lifted me off my feet as his half-dragon cock swelled and locked inside of me until he finished ejaculating.

He filled me with fire, and it made my head spin. His incredible ecstasy was a palpable presence in the room and I rode high upon it. I had forgotten myself entirely now, but he was not finished with me. With a spell, he lifted my body and laid it gently on the bed. I could see him again, see the scaly blue patches on his face and body recede as he resumed his normal half-elven appearance. But his eyes were still glowing as he climbed atop me and teased my cock back into throbbing hardness by rubbing it between his buttocks. I gasped when he slipped himself down onto it. In our few months together I had never…

“Yes, you like that just as much, don’t you?” Kalec murmured. “I saw how you took him, what it did to you. I should have thought to ask if you wanted it of me.”

“I wouldn’t have known to say yes,” I moaned. “I didn’t know until that night.” I was breathing hard, my face flushed. Every stroke brought me higher and higher. I still was not able to lift my arms to hold him. I was completely at his mercy.

“You’re not going to come until I say you can,” he told me, and rocked me hard to let me know he was speaking the truth. I was riding the crest of the wave, waiting for it to crash down, as I felt his hand close around my throat. My head pounded, my body screamed for oxygen, and just as I thought I might black out, I heard him say, “Now!” and everything exploded. After the first few spasms he released my throat, and leaned down to breathe into my mouth, turning it into a deep, passionate kiss as I continued to ejaculate into him for what seemed like hours. He freed my hands, and I brought them up to his face as we kissed.

At last, I was finished. We lay in each other’s arms, exhausted but floating with the clouds. 

“Dai,” Kalec murmured. “I was never angry with you. I only wished it could have been me with you at Angler’s Wharf, but I promised Khadgar not to interfere.”

“I believe you, love,” I replied. He had proved everything I had hoped he would, I could do nothing else but believe him. Even better, I had proved to myself exactly how much I trusted him. “You’re right, Kalec.”

“Hmm?” he queried.

“I am alive again.”

He smiled. “I know. It’s beautiful.”

  
  



End file.
